Fury of the Storm
by The King in the N0rth
Summary: Just as the conflict between Hoshido and Nohr is reaching its boiling point, Prince Arin of Nohr finds himself deemed ready to fight. When a secret is revealed that shakes him to the core, his whole perspective is changed. When armies clash for dominance and ancient powers return from the edge of oblivion, will Arin choose to fight for his own blood or those who raised him?
1. 0: Ties That Bind

**Disclaimer: Ayy lmao, I don't own any of this. I mean, I own copies of the game, but I don't own Fire Emblem or any o' that.**

* * *

 **0: Ties That Bind**

Darkness—darkness surrounded me; I couldn't bring myself to fall back to sleep, unwilling to risk facing the dream again. I took a deep breath, trying to push the dream away, but it kept coming back, probing at the back of my mind for however long I sat in the night. I refused to light a candle, fearing that if I would, I might find it to be true.

The nights of Nohr, so black that light itself could scarcely penetrate it, had been my companion for as long as I could remember. When the sun's shadow behind the clouds crossed over the horizon, the night flew in on cold black wings, pitch-dark as the Bottomless Canyon, and though it arrived fast, it took several hours in the morning for the first rays of sunlight broke through the cloudbank and drove back the darkness.

My younger brother, Leo, always compared the Nohrian nights to a raven: swift and dark, and a source of all nightmares. "Dark wings, dark words," he would say, "or if you can remember them, dark images. But you needn't worry about that, brother! You have the devil's own luck," and then he would chuckle and either swipe a book from my shelf or leave one for me.

I didn't feel lucky then, though. My brothers and sisters were probably in Windmire with Father, whilst I was stuck here in the Northern Fortress where the nights were long and freezing; silence and darkness were my only companions tonight—darkness, silence, and the dream. Though the furs that covered my bed drove away the cold, neither they nor my pillow could shelter me from the pervading grasp of my dream.

" _Come home to Hoshido, Arin!"_

" _No, Arin! Nohr is your home!"_

The second sentence, I remember, was spoken by my older brother Xander—or at least some version of him. Whoever spoke about Hoshido, I do not know.

I can recall an open field pimpled by rolling green hills and divided by a forking river; it flowed swiftly but still seemed gentle, not at all like the rivers of Nohr, which seemed dark and cruel, always threatening to drown you. Nohrian and Hoshidan soldiers gathered on either side, staring coldly at each other from across the banks. I saw Nohrian longbowmen and crossbowmen making their way to the front lines, their light plate armour clanking with every step; similarly, Hoshidan archers drew forth with yumis already tightly drawn back—though their armour was much more light, though that seemed to be the general style of the Hoshidans. There was a pregnant pause as the Nohrians and Hoshidans awaited orders from their commanders.

Towards the delta of the river, I remembered seeing myself with a group of Hoshidans; there was something about them, I don't know what it was, but they just felt so familiar. There were three of them with me, a Sky Knight like myself with vibrant red hair—her name began with an 'H,' but the Hoshidans have such strange names—as well as an Archer with long grey hair and a Shrine Maiden with red hair so light that it was almost pink—like my own.

I couldn't make out much of what was going on, but I knew that we, the four of us, were guarding a bridge from Nohrian soldiers—and we were winning. Lacking a mount, I fought on foot with a golden sword with a claw-like hilt; with the help of the long-haired Archer I slew several Lancers and even a Cavalier.

Another image was recalled to mind: Xander, facing the Hoshidan Prince Ryoma. The two were more than a match for each other, never able to deliver a decisive blow, always taking back whatever ground they lost. I doubt I rooted for either of them, though; I recall in my dream that as I watched, I felt my heart being wrenched apart.

For so long everything appeared as a blur, until finally it came to those fateful words.

" _Come home to Hoshido, Arin!"_

" _No, Arin! Nohr is your home!"_

Back in my room, I shook my head again and again, trying to get it out of my mind. Xander, Camilla, Leo, Elise—my beloved siblings… wherever they were, that was my home. Dream-Xander was right; Nohr was my home.

That singular thought stayed with me as my eyes refused to grow heavy; when the soft grey light of dawn finally touched my room, I was still awake. My maids, Felicia and Flora, came in quietly—no doubt trying not to wake me—but seemed extremely surprised to find me awake; Felicia, ever flighty, actually jumped a little.

"Lord Arin, how pleasant to find you awake already," said Flora with a courteous bow, her blue hair bobbing slightly. "How did you sleep?"

I decided it would be better not to inform them about the dream; sliding out of my bed and smoothing down my nightclothes, I gave them a smile. It felt forced, but after twenty years of being hidden away by Father, I've become a master at masking them. "Well enough, thank you. How are you two?" My voice didn't sound tired.

"Very well my lord, thank you for asking," said Flora.

"Excellent my lord, thank you!" Felicia beamed. She always was the more excitable of the sisters. Though the sisters looked almost identical, it was quite easy to tell them apart by the colour of their hair; Flora's was a frigid blue, Felicia's was pink. Flora was the more capable and steady of the two, whilst Felicia was flighty and clumsy.

But I could never have asked for two better companions and friends. Ten years had passed since they were sent here by my father, King Garon, and not once have I regretted their presence. The two of them, along with my retainer and trainer Gunter and my butler Jakob, have been the only friends I've ever known; I'd die for each of them.

"Where is Jakob?" I asked, knowing the answer well enough, but I figured I might as well ask.

"Jakob is making repairs to your armour," Flora said, "he's convinced your lord brother is simply doing this to cause him trouble now," she chuckled.

"And Gunter?"

"Escorting your brothers for breakfast," said Felicia, "which you need to prepare for!"

"Well, I would get dressed but I'm afraid that would require me to disrobe," I said innocently, giving them doe-eyes. "How can I do that with two ladies in the room?"

* * *

After an Ice Tribe-style wakeup (even though I was, obviously, already awake), Felicia and Flora left me to dress, though I don't doubt they lingered outside my door to collect me. Since training wouldn't begin until almost midday, I laid out some simple clothes to wear after I bathed: a light blue doublet with black trousers. Both were plain, unadorned, and fit well enough; they would serve for breakfast.

After bathing, I took a moment to survey myself in the steamy mirror; tall and willowy, with muscle compacted into my body to the point where I don't appear strong. Long, rose-coloured hair fell about my shoulders in tufts; on my left-side, a bang dipped so low and sharp that it almost appeared like a fang, whilst sharp, curved tufts danced about my forehead. Then I dressed and walked out of my room and went downstairs with Felicia. It was warm in the dining room, a fire burning in the great hearth whilst pale light peered in through the massive windows that lined the eastward wall. Several tall chairs of ornately carved wood lined a giant table, and rich velvet carpets surrounded the room.

In a chair to the right of the head of the table, there sat a short young man with straight white hair, dressed in a black doublet. Before him there was a steaming platter piled with bacon, sausage and other foods, though he had cast some sort of spell to create two small constructs made of food and made them fight. He chuckled with glee, obviously proud of his own skills; Leo, my little brother, ever the 'mad mage.'

Watching in amusement from the opposite chair was a man with wavy blond hair, already dressed in a set of dark armour. His plate only had a little bit of food, some sausage and bread; Xander never liked to eat much before fighting, even in simple sparring matches. He looked away from Leo's spectacle briefly and glanced at me, and grinned. "Our gracious host has awakened from his slumber," he teased, pushing out the chair at the head of the table.

I stuck my tongue out at him like I used to when I was a child and took my seat. Felicia placed a plate of food in front of me, but I pushed it away. Seeing my brothers caused me to remember the dream, and I suddenly didn't have much of an appetite.

* * *

The time came and Xander and I made our way to the training yard. My ponytailed butler, Jakob, was waiting for me with my armour. "Thank you, Jakob. I hope the dents didn't give you too much trouble," I teased lightly.

"My lord, it is my firm belief that your brother is doing it to spite me," he replied with a chuckle as he helped me into it. When I was fully suited in my ground-battle armour, which was the typical Nohrian plate armour, he handed me my sword and I went to meet Xander in the sparring ring. Typically I would have been atop my mount, Snowcrest, but Xander wanted me to fight him on foot today. However, he was mounted on his massive destrier, his legendary sword Siegfried held tightly in his hand. "Ready, Little Prince?" he asked.

"As ever, Brother," I said, grinning. My heart was pounding; sparring with Xander was something I always looked forward to.

"You're a prince of Nohr, Arin," he said, "fight with your all. Father has been tracking your progress, you know." He was suddenly serious.

My hands tightened around the cold leather grip of my sword. "Then I'll prove I'm ready to leave."

"I know you will," Xander said, his eyes shining with proud, his expression still placid. He always believed in me. "Now! Come at me!"

"YaaaaAAAAAH!" I yelled, raising my sword as I ran toward Xander. He remained still as stone, though his armoured mount was clearly excited. When I came close to my brother, I swung my sword fiercely at him; even mounted he was only a little bit taller than I was (dismounted he was only two inches taller) and he had to hold Siegfried with both hands to block. He parried and countered, and I ducked out of the way, taking a few more swings. Being the veteran soldier, he turned away my strikes with ease and laid across my chest with one strong cut from the edge of his blade.

That was my least favourite part about sparring with Xander: Siegfried always cut deep. The magical blade had a way of cutting you, even if it the steel didn't touch you; there was something cold about it, and even when it glanced off your armour it was like a gust of freezing wind would cut through you, slowing you. It made my innards go numb, briefly, before I came back swinging. He looked surprised at how quickly I bounced back, but then he grinned; ten or so years of this had caused me to adapt and overcome.

My sword caught him on the shoulder, clanging against his pauldrons; he seized the opportunity to take another swipe with Siegfried, catching me in the ribs—that was where that specific set of chainmail was weakest. Since I was a Sky Knight and typically rode mounted on my pegasus, the most padding was in my front, because that's typically where the arrows came from; if any came from the sides, it was to bring down Snowcrest, my mount.

The blow sent me to the ground, knocking the wind out of me and sending my sword skittering.

"Come on, Arin! You'll have to do better than that," said Xander.

I moved my hand to my side and felt a bit of blood, hot and sticky. I doubted that it could be a big cut, but as I said, Siegfried is a vicious weapon. I rolled to the side, just in case he tried for a downward cut, but he didn't; instead, he allowed me to recollect my weapon and retreat slightly.

When I reached the centre of the sparring area, I felt something in my gut tugging at me, begging for attention. "Dragon Vein," I said lowly, squeezing my eyes shut and focusing. I could practically feel Xander and Leo's grins. A green aura began to glow, and a shimmering light spread over the ground like a spotlight; not just any Dragon Vein, a healing area. I felt a sense of relief wash over me, and the stinging sensation from where I was cut faded away; when I put my hand there, the blood flow appeared to have stopped.

"Damn, brother! I wasn't sure if you would sense that or not," said Leo from the sidelines.

"I'm impressed as well," said Xander. "Now that you're healed, come on! Let's finish this."

I grinned and complied, rushing back into the fight with renewed vigour. My sword, gleaming with pale light, clattered in a flurry of sparks against Siegfried; my brother's own strength made him able to deflect my own blade, though I came back swifter with a powerful strike to his chest, stunning him briefly. I took that moment to gather up some strength and deliver a fierce chop to his gauntleted fist, making him drop the blade. Moments later I had my sword to his neck, and just like that the fight was over.

I won.

Part of me was so proud of myself; what had once been a physically taxing guaranteed loss had steadily become a fruitful endeavour that proved just how strong I had become. Elation swelled up inside me, and a grin that probably made me look like a madman appeared on my face. I couldn't wait until Elise found out; my little sister was always the one who enjoyed hearing about mine and Xander's matches. Camilla would no doubt be proud, but probably subject me to a somewhat invasive examination to make sure I wasn't too hurt.

Whilst lost in my own thoughts, I felt myself being dragged back into the castle by two pairs of soft hands; I saw a brief flash of blonde curls and lavender waves—speak of the devil, it was Elise and Camilla! My beloved little sister was chattering away about something, and Camilla was gently prodding at my side, around where Siegfried had cut me. She seemed pleased that the Healing Spot had done its work, but I had no doubts that she would declare me injured until she confirmed it herself.

Surrounded by my sisters, the dream came back to mind. Another snippet of speech tagged along, and this disturbed me more than the others:

" _Nohrian scum! First you kidnap Arin, then you lie to him?! Arin is MY brother!"_ I didn't know who the voice belonged to, but it was definitely female and the very sound of it struck a chord in my mind. I knew this person, remember being near them, but I could not recall a face nor a name.

I didn't like what she said though. Mentally I balked at the thought; I had been raised in Nohr all my life! There was no way.

Then there was Camilla's voice, smooth and alluring, but deadly as a viper, _"You are mistaken… Arin is my sweet little brother, you may not have him."_ Any trace of playfulness was gone; in its place, a seriousness that I had never heard from her.

I heard Ryoma. _"Arin, don't be fooled by their words. You belong with your true family in Hoshido!"_

Xander. _"We loved you and raised you since you were a child. Come home, little prince. We can live as a family once more!"_

Then the haunting words reared their ugly heads.

" _Come home to Hoshido, Arin!"_

" _No, Arin! Nohr is your home!"_

Camilla had departed from us, possibly to find medical supplies to examine me with. Elise stopped suddenly, and I stopped too, snapped away from my daze. For the first time that day I actually heard her voice.

"Big brother, why are you crying?"

I hadn't realised until she brought it up. Hot tears spilled down my face. My heart felt like it was being torn in two. I glanced over at Elise and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into a hug. "I don't know, sometimes you just need to cry, you know?" I asked. Hopefully that would stave off questions, at least for a little bit.

I wasn't about to sob. I wasn't going to dry-heave. I was just crying.

"Little sister, do you have any idea how much I love you?" I asked, wiping my tears away. I couldn't tell if I was asking this to reaffirm her beliefs or my own.

"Tons!" she said, hugging me tightly. "And I love you tons too, Arin!"

The tears wouldn't stop coming, but I smiled nonetheless. Just hearing those words brightened my day.

* * *

Later that day, after lunch, Xander informed me we would be leaving right away. Jakob helped me pack, and since we knew not if I would be returning to the Fortress or if I would be staying in Windmire, we packed heavily. My armour, spare swords, a lance; and of course clothes. Lilith, another one of the castle maids, readied the horses.

When we were getting ready to leave, Lilith sidled up alongside me as I mounted Snowcrest. We were nearing the outre wall, and a breeze ran through her blue hair. "Finally leaving, Lord Arin? I bet you're happy."

"In a way," I admitted. "It will be nice to finally see the outside."

She grinned slightly. "Gunter has asked me to come along. To tend the horses," she added quickly.

"Glad to hear it," I say with a smile. "It would be a lot lonelier without you around."

Xander trotted up on his mount. "Are the pack horses ready, Lilith?"

"Yes milord," she replied, "and very excited. They're all very fond of Lord Arin."

"Well, I do enjoy the stables," I agreed. "Nice and quiet, compared to you lot."

Lilith flushed and puffed out her cheeks. "Lord Arin!"

Camilla's laughter filled my ears, and the ground started to quake a little. I kept Snowcrest steady, and I saw Xander having to keep his horse calm too. Camilla's mount of choice was a massive black wyvern instead of a horse; why she had to be different, I know not. "Our beloved brother is such a caring soul; it's only natural that he and animals love each other." She sounded wistful. "Why, don't you all remember the time he nursed that baby bird back to health? I think that was just before you arrived, Lilith."

Lilith looked a little nervous for a moment, but she tried to return to a happy face.

"Something wrong, Lilith?" I asked, concerned.

She flushed a little more. "N-no, Lord Arin, it's, ah…"

"Isn't it obvious Arin?" Elise said, coming up to my other side atop her horse, a chestnut courser. "Lilith is sad because she's going to miss you!"

"She's coming with us," Leo said in a deadpan.

"Oh, right! Well, I bet she's sad because she won't have you all to herself anymore," Elise teased, grinning at Lilith. My blue-haired maid blushed. "You've always been especially fond of my brother, haven't you, Lilith?"

Xander's amused voice broke whatever babble was leaving Lilith's mouth. "As gripping as all this is, we need to be on our way. You know how father detests tardiness," he said; he even sounded a little afraid.

It would be nice to see father again, and I certainly didn't want to anger him by being unpunctual. Whenever he came to visit, he would arrive and leave at precise times and adhere to specific schedules; I can only imagine he would expect the same from us. It would not bode well to anger him, I know that much.

"Yes, let's go," I agreed quickly.

"Flora, Jakob. You two shall remain here and keep watch over the castle. Felicia and I shall accompany Lord Arin; it may be some time before we return, but I trust you will take care of this place."

"Of course! Have we ever failed you?" Flora asked with a smile. When I looked back, I could see in her icy blue eyes that she wasn't excited for me to go—why should she? We had been companions for almost half our lives, and now we were to be separated?

It was the same boat with Jakob. Though he wore a serene smile, my butler's eyes were filled with sorrow. "I wish you safe travels, Lord Arin," he said politely.

"Thank you, both of you. We'll meet again one day, just hopefully not here," I joked, trying to offer them a smile. As much as I hated to admit it, I was going to miss this place, simply for the friends I was leaving behind. "Thank you, Jakob, Flora, you two are some of the best friends I've ever had."

"Milord, we're some of the only friends you've ever had," Jakob teased, but I could tell he was touched.

My siblings and I cantered toward the gates; or at least, Leo, Xander, Elise and I did, whilst Camilla's wyvern took flight in a low hover, kicking up dust. I had to laugh, remembering how she always let me ride behind her on the massive mount, and how I clung to her out of sheer terror. It was nothing like riding Snowcrest, and she would laugh but comfort me afterward.

Then Elise, how she would always tackle me with a hug when she would come to visit. We would sit and talk for hours upon hours, well after Gunter and my maids would order lights out. We would always tell each other first when something was wrong.

Leo, my little brother, the talented mage. I was the one who taught him how to ride; we would sneak out after dark and go to the stables, and I would help him get closer with the horses, and finally we would go out into the fields and ride. Together, Xander and I even taught him how to swordfight; he wasn't particularly skilled, but he was a mage and didn't really need to use a sword much. Still, it was nice to be prepared.

Xander, my elder brother, my role model, my hero. He was all I ever wanted to be; tall, handsome, and strong, with a sense of loyalty to Father that I could only hope to match. His intense training brought me into manhood and made me the man that Father needed, the man that Nohr needed.

Dream-Xander was right; any doubts I had melted away with that. Nohr was my home. My family was here; Elise, Leo, Camilla, Xander… even Gunter, Jakob, Felicia and Flora. Even Father, as distant as he was, loved me. He didn't put me away in the Northern Fortress out of spite or shame, he did it so I could hone my skills and become the sort of soldier Nohr needed. I would prove my worth to him.

He would have to acknowledge me, show pride in my skills. Maybe then he would finally tell me about Mother.

* * *

 **Ayyyy so there we go! I've been crazy about Fates so far, loving every single freaking minute of it! I've had a bit of a bad track record with finishing stories, but I'm really behind this story (plus since I'm still playing Fates, I've got a constant source of inspiration going). Anyways, I just really got the bug to write through with my own dude, Arin, and instead of just the simple Nohrian Prince, he's a Sky Knight y'all—a personal favourite unit of mine—but he can also use swords. I've got some other characters of my own, and I've decided that I kind of want to go into bigger detail about the battles and stuff. I might have chapters about battles between the actual armies, through the POVs of commanders and such considering the main parties. Also, in case anyone noticed, I combined the prologue together with "Nohr," you know, the whole training chapter.**

 **Now, I do have the sides planned; I know where Arin is going. For the most part, however, I don't know about the pairings. I plan to pair one of my created characters with Camilla, and I'm thinking about pairing Arin with, perhaps, Setsuna or Hana, but otherwise I don't know, and I'm certainly open to suggestions.**

 **So, to mark my return to the world of fanfiction, and to Fire Emblem, how about some favourites/follows/reviews if you liked it? My writing might be a little rusty, like I said it's been a little while since I've done this—especially in first person—but I really hope it's up to par.**

 **Anyways, to close it, I just wanted to say, take care, brrrrush yo hair, I'll see ya when I see ya, PEACE!**

 **~Chase**


	2. I: Demon Sword Ganglari

**Disclaimer: I already said it, do I have to say it again? Meh, I don't own anything. There. Happy now?**

* * *

 **I: Demon Sword Ganglari; or, Screw You Dad, I Wanted a Puppy**

A few days' time had elapsed after departing from the northern fortress when we finally got our first good look at Windmire. The sun was finally beginning to rise (of course by then it was almost midday) and the soft grey light spread out across the massive city. I was in awe.

To tell the truth, I had never visited Windmire before. Father always said that it was 'too dangerous' for me to leave the fortress, that a magical barrier protected me and gave me the strength I needed to grow and develop properly; he never gave a proper, believable answer to why he could visit but I could never visit Castle Krakenburg, but he was the King, he didn't have to give an answer.

Even in the pale light, from our position on a hill overlooking the city, I could see thousands of flickering candles dancing in windows; magical fires burned in massive lampposts towering up higher than some of the buildings; a labyrinthine system of rings interlocked in odd intervals throughout the city, separating the numerous districts. In the centre, a huge ring, the only true circle that I can see—that is to say, completely unbroken by the intrusion of another ring—made up of massive walls and tall, reaching spires, seemed to rise up like a mountain molded specifically by the gods, just like the ones that were said to rest around the Bottomless Canyon. In my heart I knew that was where Castle Krakenburg was.

However… there was just something in this city that made me feel uneasy, as if even from above the city we were being watched. It was possible, of course; according to Leo, Father's man Iago was capable of all sorts of magic, even unnatural sorts of things like body swapping. I hadn't even met the man yet, and I already didn't want to.

Windmire felt cold—and it wasn't just from the perpetual winds that swept down from the north (it was almost as cold as the northern fortress!). As we cantered into the city, the dark stones that made up the walls were freezing to the touch; it was almost as if they absorbed light, but not heat. They had stood for hundreds of years, impregnable guardians against things now long-dead; but now they seemed to be in a state of death themselves, as cold as the grave.

Despite being a prince of Nohr, I felt very unwelcome here, in the city that would come to me should anything happen to Xander. The flames danced with a sort of malice, the crackling embers mocking, "You don't belong here. Go home, little prince."

 _Home_.

This was my home— _Nohr_ was my home; so why did I feel this way? Perhaps this was just how it felt to be in a new place? I had never before left the lands around the northern fortress, so that could very well be the answer. I tried to smash down that feeling in my gut as we travelled through the city, an escort of guards behind and in front of us. Camilla had left her wyvern behind outside and was now riding double with me, still occasionally giving my side a tender squeeze to make sure Xander hadn't caused any permanent injury, despite the fight being days ago and having performed an inspection herself.

Snowcrest didn't seem to like this place either; the streets were too narrow for him to stretch his wings, and the air was so stifling and thick compared to the fresh, free air of the northern fortress.

Hopefully we would adjust to this soon—or be sent out on missions like Xander and the others. Surely Father would not have summoned us just to come live in the castle; he must have had something for us to do.

As the monolithic circle loomed overhead, the golden sun was tearing a path through the heavy grey clouds. It wasn't often to see the blue of the sky trailing behind it, but today it calmed me down a little. Not much, but a little.

Castle Krakenburg was dead ahead. _Father_ was dead ahead.

* * *

Far below the entrance to the massive circle lay the Castle, a mass of stones and towers flanked with gargoyles that seemed to radiate night. Two giant dragons made of some black, twisted metal and contorted into gruesome features flanked either side of the massive front doors, which were blacker than the stones that made up the city; I remembered reading in a book Leo had loaned me that these doors were made of wood from a mystical tree that had been long-dead… I couldn't remember what their true names were, but they were called 'the Kings of Night,' because the groves they grew in kept out all sun and starlight and grew taller than most other trees. I couldn't believe I was actually about to pass through those great portals I had read so much about. Networks of bridges crisscrossed over the palace and toward the palace, and even far below the palace; I wondered how deep it went.

From my left, Leo looked over to me and grinned. "You really do have the devil's own luck, brother," he said. "You always said you never thought you'd see a King of Night in person, but here you are."

"They're just doors now, Leo," I retorted, smiling nonetheless. If anything made the discomfort of the city worthwhile, it was my family.

"Doors once, trees forever," he replied, leaning over and giving me a light punch on the arm… however, he swung a little too hard and threw himself behind it, and he almost lost balance. Barely managing to keep hold on the reins of his horse, he pulled himself up with a light gasp and sent a good-natured glare at us all; if one of us hadn't been laughing when he nearly fell, they would have been at the glare.

"And you, my dear brother, are a fool forever," I teased.

The air down here on the bridge to the castle was hot and stifling; I supposed that, so deep underground, the cutting winds couldn't reach that far. Though it wasn't as crowded or cramped as the streets above, it was just so disturbing because nothing seemed to move; the winds that freshened the air were not present, and it just made everything feel so… stale. There was no smell to it, but I could tell that this was a place where death was no stranger.

In two of the topmost towers, a glowing orange fire gleamed in each; the sharp angles that each turret jutted out at reminded me of Nohr's own sigil, the Dusk Dragon. I could see the eyes, burning with a fiery malice; the spiny back with its obsidian points; even the wings seemed to appear in the shadows projected from the sun's beams. It was oddly calming, yet fear-inspiring at the same time. I had to wonder how many thousands of soldiers had thrown themselves against the walls of this city and been beaten back by those fighting under the sigil of the Dusk Dragon—but at the same time, how many atrocities had been committed by those same soldiers over the centuries… funny how it can go both ways.

The doors creaked open with a heavy groan, as if the hinges hadn't been giving a proper oiling in eons. I couldn't help but, at the time, liken it to the dusty old skeletons that guarded crypts in Camilla's stories.

I am glad that I wasn't expecting Father to meet us at the doors and sweep down the steps and gather us in his arms—because if I had, I would have been sorely disappointed. The only hosts there to receive us were silence and his companion, a yawning dark hallway. Even though I could see the faint glimmer of torches further down, this hall seemed to be so inky black that any light that strayed too far from its source was swallowed up by the darkness.

"Well, brother, what do you think?" asked Xander, a sense of amusement in his voice. I didn't doubt he expected my answer of,

"I didn't think it was going to be this bleak."

Xander and even Gunter chuckled; Elise and Leo laughed; Camilla snorted somewhat, though tried to keep her composure; then Felicia, my oh-so-graceful retainer, gave the most unladylike snort with a follow-up peal of laughter. That, I decided, was more amusing than my sort-of joke; I started laughing. Our laughter echoed down the halls with a sort of dampness, a strange heaviness following beside it; I couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since someone had laughed in those halls.

My guess? A while.

"Really, brother? After all I've told you on my visits?" teased Leo. "This place is the bleakest of the bleak. Always so grim and eerily quiet, you know?" He grinned at me.

Xander spoke then. "Come, Father is expecting us," he said.

Camilla piped in, "And we're even early! Perhaps he'll reward us."

* * *

Father's throne room was lavish yet austere at the same time; what little furnishings there were majestic, fitting a king. Banners and tapestries hung from the walls, woven from all sorts of fabrics of varying gradients of blue to black, depicting scenes from Nohrian history of all the heroes that fought and died for the kingdom over the centuries.

Massive stone columns rose up toward the high ceiling, curved grooves indented into them roughly. It was a wide space, with a long red carpet leading straight up to Father's throne, carved out of stone that seemed to radiate power…

…Or maybe the power was radiating from the mountain of a man that occupied that chair. Tanned, rough skin stretched over a stony face, cold eyes leering out from under his slightly extended brow; white hair, neatly trimmed and styled, washed over his scalp like a wave of snow, and under his chin a long white beard poked out, pointed at the sides and rounded at the bottom, whilst a second spike of dark hair arrowed out right in the middle of the beard. His majestic fur robes sat a little lumpy and loose around his black armour, with ornate golden patterns drawn, probably in the very early stages of the forging. Leaning up against the chair was a huge axe with a wicked, jagged blade—Father's legendary weapon, the terrible Bölverk. The stern expression on his face reminded me of the majestic felines Camilla showed me pictures of in books when I was little—lions.

If I hadn't known any better, when his eyes finally came to rest on me I would have sworn he had smiled. He drummed his fingers on the arms of his throne as we drew near, then dropped to our knees in respect. "Father," said Xander.

"Father," I greeted.

"I see you made it here safely, Arin," said King Garon. He made no effort to get up; he did not need to, nor did I expect him to.

"Yes Father; thank you for this opportunity," I said, keeping my head low.

"Rise, my son. It is through your own diligence that you are here," said Father. A sort of pride rushed through me when he called me, 'my son.' I had longed to hear those words come out of his mouth all my life.

I rose, and I was overcome with the feeling that I was the centre of the world, that everything was existing just because I willed it to. I had finally done it—I could be the warrior the kingdom needed.

"I am told you are a warrior almost on par with Xander. You have finally gained the strength to serve Nohr," he said; I strained my ears, trying to detect any hint of pride in his tone, but there was none. He spoke as he always did—straightforward and flatly. I couldn't remember the last time I heard any sort of inflection in his voice.

"Father, will he be alright outside of the fortress?" asked Elise, a little nervous.

"I worry about that too. Isn't it dangerous for Arin to live outside the barrier?" Camilla interjected, concern working its way into her usual purr.

My mouth twisted into something akin a smirk, "I thank you for the concern, dear sisters," I said, "but I've trained all my life—I've earned this."

The King made a grunting noise of what might have been approval. "As you know, we are currently at war with the Hoshidans to the east," he began in a rumbling voice.

"Aye, I've heard as much," I nodded. I doubted that this was the crux of the discussion.

"We are descended from the ancient gods, the First Dragons. In our blood runs the divine strength of our ancestors, with which we can crush our foes with ease. One who can properly train his power can decimate an army of common soldiers as if they were no more than ragdolls," Father said. "Xander, Camilla and Leo have already shown to possess this power. I expect no less from you."

"I am aware of your expectations, Father," I said. He hadn't been informed of my last spar with Xander, then; I was capable of using Dragon Veins. "I have trained since I could walk to be like my siblings."

"You show promise, my son. You have progressed admirably," he said. Was that a compliment? He said it so monotonously that I couldn't tell; his eyes didn't shine, his face didn't twitch, he was as still as stone. "And a servant of Nohr needs a suitable weapon."

The air hummed with a tinkling sound, the sort that would occur whenever Leo was going to use his magic. In front of Father, the empty space began to ripple, a dark energy sphere forming before spreading out in a shockwave, leaving a sword floating in the air amongst shimmering remnants of the sphere.

"This is Ganglari, a sword infused with magic from another world. With it at your side, you will crush the Hoshidan army with ease."

I could barely hear his voice; the sword was calling out to me. I approached cautiously, slowly, as a hunter approaches the prey they had been stalking for so long—except in this castle I felt more like the prey than the hunter. Father was the lion, I was the deer. And Ganglari… the sword was somewhere in between.

The weapon was long, the blade at least as long as my arm, the hilt long enough to fit both fists around with room left. It was the colour of obsidian, polished and radiating a purple aura, though it was jagged—not serrated, but jagged, like it was pieced together out of sharp rocks rather than forged—and had a wicked-looking curve to its back. Deep inside I heard something advising me not to pick it up, but the call of the blade was stronger. One-handedly, I swung the blade around to get a feel for it. It was light and as it sliced through the air its polished blade shone with the sparkles of a thousand stars.

For a moment, all I could manage to say was, "It's a good fit…" before I regained my senses. I dropped to one knee and stammered briefly, before saying, "Thank you for this most generous gift, Father."

"Hmm… generous indeed…" said Xander. I couldn't tell if he was mistrusting or simply pondering.

With a mighty thud, Garon's boots hit the floor and he stood up, reaching over seven feet tall in his full stature. Though everything else in the room seemed to vibrate, Bölverk stayed as still as if it were frozen to the throne. "Now, let us see you put that sword to its true use," he said. He looked to a Nohrian soldier, clad in plate armour and a kettle-helm, and said with a sense of sick satisfaction in his voice, "Bring in the prisoners."

"Yes, sire!" said the soldier. He hurried out of the room.

"Prisoners…?" I said slowly, not quite grasping the point.

The soldier who left the room returned moments later, a few other guards forming a 'v' shape like a flock of birds behind him, and in the middle of the flock were four people.

Two were simple Hoshidan soldiers, dressed in the light chain armour that was prevalent throughout the Hoshidan ranks. The other two, however, were far from simple footsoldiers.

One was a woman, tall and strong-looking, with white hair and tan skin; she had a mask on top of her scalp that I couldn't quite make out, though I could see the trail of blood-red hair flowing out behind it. She wore a necklace of black spheres, and a grouping of white cloths covered her breasts and for her lower body she wore a set of long pants flared out around the thighs and knees. There was a large club made of some shining, almost orange metal—brass, perhaps?—in her hands.

The other of the non-soldiers was a man with messy green hair wearing a black-and-grey bodysuit and scarf. His wrists had curved blade-protrusions that could probably also function as weapons. He also had pouches tied at his belt, probably for weapons as well. There was something familiar about this man, about his eyes, but I couldn't place a finger on it. He was tall and lithe, and there was a sort of mysterious quality too him—I figured he was probably a Ninja, as described in the Hoshidan strategy books Leo brought me; perhaps his companion was an Oni Savage.

At once I understood what Father meant. He wanted me to execute the prisoners.

I hardly heard what he was saying. I picked up the words, 'Hoshido,' 'skirmish,' and 'power,' before, "Use your sword to strike them down."

A gripping sense of horror flooded throughout me. He meant for me to kill our captives, who could still be ransomed and were thus our responsibility. Xander and Gunter had long taught me that mercy was one of the most important things we could provide our combatants with, especially when they are beaten. How could Father simply expect me to abandon my teachings?

I opened my mouth to protest, but the clattering of hooves against stone made me stop. Gunter, a look of heavy sorrow etched into his face, cantered up to my side on his steed, a majestic lance with a pearly white shaft and a silver spearhead held tightly in his hand. "I shall join you, milord," he said quietly. "My lance arm isn't as it once was, but still serviceable. Will you be joining us, Felicia?"

"Of course I will, it's a part of my job is it not?" Felicia said. She didn't seem much happier than Gunter. "I've never been great at the domestics, so I've gotta be good at something."

The Oni-girl looked at me with a fierce look etched in her face. She bared her teeth in a snarl. "My name is Rinkah! I am the daughter of the Flame Tribe's Honourable Chieftain," she thundered; the ferocity in her voice made me flinch. She seemed to be in an even fouler mood than Father. "What is your name, Nohrian Prince?"

"I am Arin," I said gravely. If I could have seen my own eyes, I don't doubt that they would have been a cloudy blue-grey, like storm clouds. I wondered if I would be on the verge of tears before long, having murdered four prisoners just because my king told me to.

The Ninja's eyes widened. "Arin… could it be…?" I heard him whisper. He mouthed a few more words; I thought one of them was, 'eyes,' but I couldn't be sure.

I looked at him with what was probably pity. "Do you know of me…?" I said slowly.

His eyes became hard and focused again as he shook his head. "My name is Kaze, and I serve Hoshido as a Ninja. I expect you to come at me with everything you have!"

Rinkah gave me a death-glare, but said nothing.

A few of Father's guards stepped forward and led us to a more open side of the room, where a large square structure rose up, about level with Father's throne. Its walls were thick and made of stone, and where it would start a roof it sloped up sharply for a moment before crumbling completely away; inside it was naught but rubble. I could see that there was an entrance from our end, an indentation slightly into the structure but blocked off by debris; I felt a tug from there, too—the same sort as the healing panel on the training field in the Northern Fortress.

There was a Dragon Vein there.

Felicia, Gunter and I were stationed on the southern end of the area, whilst Kaze, Rinkah and the footsoldiers were placed at the northern end, each little 'team' facing their opponents; it appeared as if Father intended this to be a sort of game, a life-size chess match. He had always been quite fond of such spectacles—though I never expected him to toss me into the arena.

I then heard Father's voice rumble across the makeshift battlefield, echoing with a sort of hollow, almost dead tone. "Kill them all."

The iron grip of fear seized my heart and stomach. I couldn't believe what I just heard; true, Father had never been particularly _kind_ to prisoners, but he never ordered them killed. I knew right away there was more to this than he was letting on. I didn't want to do this, but I had to play along; I couldn't stand being left in the dark like this.

"I'm sorry for this," I bellowed out to them, holding Ganglari in one hand and giving a low, respectful bow to my opponents. Gunter inclined his head whilst Felicia simply readied her knives.

"Come on, Prince! Save your talk for your Father's boot-lickers!" mocked Rinkah, resting her club against her shoulder.

Kaze stood silently, stoically, arms crossed and eyes apathetic.

The footsoldiers, now armed with lances, were showing a mix of protectiveness for their allies and piss-your-pants level fear.

If not for the two who had given me their names, I imagine Father could have just gathered some smallfolk from the city to take care of the prisoners. Rinkah and Kaze had to have at least some sort of skill.

Beating my chest once, I made a run for the area with the Dragon Vein. Every step I took seemed to feel lighter as I got closer to the Vein, as if it were giving me strength as I drew nearer. Felicia flanked me to one side, and Gunter trailed behind a bit. "Wait for my command," I ordered my retainer, and she relayed the information to Gunter.

That same tugging, nagging feeling overwhelmed me again, and I knew I was standing on the precise spot. I squeezed my eyes shut and focused, and then I heard a massive burst of wind and a clattering noise; when I opened them, the structure was completely free of debris and passable. "Inside!" I urged my comrades. Gunter went in first, stepping down from his mount; it would be much harder to fight whilst mounted in here; Felicia followed next, waiting for me.

The structure wasn't very big, long enough for Gunter and I to lay across together—that is, his foot against one wall, my foot against his head, and then my head against the other wall—but Gunter's massive mount took up a large portion of the room. There were two other entrances to the room besides the one facing our starting position, though they faced eastward and westward instead of to the north. The Hoshidans would have to come around if they wished to enter here; this was too easy—it was more than that… unless the Hoshidans knew about this too, it would be a slaughter.

"What should we do, milord?" asked Gunter.

"You're the veteran here, Gunter. You do whatever seems fit," I said after a moment of thought, and then added lowly, "try not to kill. Perhaps once he sees they are beaten, Father will spare them."

I tried to sound hopeful, but I had a hard time believing myself. Father had never been known for mercy, but one should always hold onto hope, right? It was worth a shot.

It didn't take long for the Hoshidans to start coming. Once Gunter and I positioned ourselves in doorways (I took the right entrance, he took the left, whilst Felicia placed herself in the middle) I immediately heard the clanking of Hoshidan armour.

"Remain focused, milord. This is a real battle; once false move can cost you your life," Gunter urged. He looked to be on edge, completely alert; that was how he taught me to be.

Saying nothing, I steeled myself and held Ganglari tighter. The blade felt a little awkward, yet fitting at the same time; typically whilst fighting on the ground I wielded a greatsword rather than a curved sword such as the Ganglari. The edges of the doorway jutted out just a little further, just enough to give me cover. I couldn't be sure if the Hoshidans had yumis as well as lances, and I knew the Ninja used shuriken, so it would be better to play it safe at the moment.

"Judge their strength," I commanded Gunter; because of her healing abilities, we were keeping her between us this round. "Don't engage unless you can incapacitate them."

"Aye milord," I heard him affirm. This would take serious judgment and planning to not kill them. Right away I was nervous; this wasn't a sparring match with Gunter or Xander, or even wrestling with the aforementioned two or Leo.

These men were coming at us with the intent to kill; our lives and their own were in my hands. I couldn't afford to falter.

The first Lancer came charging with a howl of ferocity, perhaps even vengeance; the haunted look in his brown eyes is unnerving. Maybe he had a companion who was killed by our men? He shouted something like, "AKIRA!" and thrusted his lance at me, the spearhead lunging at me with the flickering of candlelight dancing in its unusual shining metal.

I sidestepped his strike with the grace of a dancer, feeling the sharp point grazing against my armour padding. The opportunity was too perfect; whilst he attempted to pull the lance back in, I drew back and hacked at the wooden shaft with Ganglari. It amazed me just how sharp the blade was; one swipe severed the spearhead from the shaft. Twisting sharply, I struck the Hoshidan soldier on his helmet with the flat of the sword.

He stumbled a bit, the helm tumbling from his head under the force of the blow and ringing against the ground with a metallic song. He stayed up, but his lance was broken; he tried to jab at me with the splintery remains of the shaft, but I ducked low and caught his legs in the curved part of Ganglari and he fell, his head hitting the stone wall. He didn't stand back up.

I couldn't tell if he was dead or not, but I didn't have the time either. As soon as I drew back from the soldier, I saw Kaze launching himself toward me, a shuriken in his hand. Not willing to test whether or not he would throw it, I ducked my head and held my non-sword hand (which was my right; though ambidextrous, I preferred my left hand for matters of writing and fighting) over my head for protection.

Quickly I found out that Kaze wasn't a Ninja simply for fun. Under my arm I had a slightly obstructed view, though I could see him step to the side swift as a gust of wind; he brought his leg up and drove his knee into my side. I was surprised by the force he had; from appearances alone he seemed to be somewhat lacking in strength, but I was wrong—the strength of the blow sent me rolling.

I wasn't sure how I did it, but I tucked my arms in and brought Ganglari with me, and when I stopped rolling against the stony floor, I was uncut. The blade of Ganglari hadn't touched the stone, nor had it touched me; I would have expected it to either skitter from my hands or cut me, but it didn't. Because of this, I was able to bounce back quickly.

When my feet were flat against the floor again, I prepared for my counterattack. He held a bigger shuriken now, probably a little less than half the size of his head; I ran at him and swung, and he in turn swung. Steel met whatever the Ganglari was made out of and sent sparks flying through the air, the friction of the two sharp blades rubbing against each other eliciting a piercing shriek of metal.

My own storm-grey eyes met his dark blue orbs; there was… something… familiar there. That look—not quite mean, not quite friendly, but completely passive… I could have sworn that wasn't the first time I had seen him. As I focused on his face, out of the corner of my eye I could see the glinting of his shuriken as it swung toward me.

"Milord!" I heard Felicia yell.

I broke from my daze and brought my sword around, smacking his arm away with the flat of it. He seemed a little shocked. I pulled my right hand back and swung a hook-punch at his head, though as I expected he dodged. After briefly considering trying to trip him up like I did with the other soldier, I decided that if I could actually achieve that he couldn't be such a great Ninja; instead I followed in with another punch. He bobbed and weaved as I swung with sword and fist, though once I managed to cut a strand of his hair, and in retaliation he landed a cut with his shuriken on the side of my face.

"Have we met before?" I finally blurted, mid-swing. He brought his shuriken up to block with an impressive strength.

"…" He didn't answer. He swung his fist, though instead of trying to land a straight or hook punch, it seemed as though he were trying to cut me with his wrist blades. He succeeded.

The blades ripped the fabric in front of the padding on my armour, making the chainmail beneath rattle a little. I lowered my arm and spun, allowing him to cut me briefly, before slamming my shoulder into him. The Hoshidan stumbled backward a little, and that's where I found my opportunity.

Ganglari raked across his chest, tearing at his clothes and opening an angry red cut on his upper torso. The wound wasn't deep, and as long as it was treated (I would see to it myself if need be) it wouldn't be fatal. As he was staggered and a little wounded, I punched him again—right in the face—and sent him to the ground. I waited for him to get up, but I figured he was probably out.

I went back inside the structure to aid Gunter. If there were any more Hoshidans with them, they went toward his side. The Lancer was already out, I could tell; he was on his face with a big red welt on the back of his unprotected head, the helm somewhere out of sight.

The Oni Savage, Rinkah, was currently engaged in battle with Gunter. The two of them seemed to be more than a match, with Gunter meeting the Savage's brute force-filled swings of her club with graceful, deliberate swipes of his lance that could only be attained through decades of military service. Gunter countered with an elegant thrust, the way he moved almost delicate; Rinkah turned his blow away and lashed out with a punch toward his face.

"Milord, let me heal you," said Felicia lowly; I hadn't realised, but there were several scrapes and cuts on my arms and face, probably from when I rolled across the floor. She waved a staff over me and muttered something, and I felt a sort of energy flowing through me; it was hard to explain why, but the accompanying noise it made and the power that rolled through, closing my cuts, made me think of the colour green.

"Thank you," I said quickly. I heard Rinkah hiss; turning, I saw a bright red cut streaking across her face. Just a moment later she went down, the shaft of Gunter's lance striking her right in the face.

The Hoshidans were defeated; we had done it without killing. We brought them to the front of the structure, laying them as if they were already dead.

Incapacitated but stirring, our enemies laid on the floor, or had dragged themselves up to lay against the walls. I looked up to Father hoping to see mercy in his eyes, or perhaps even pride; I hoped he would tell me that I had passed some sort of test, that he really hadn't wanted me to kill them.

No such luck.

Cold fury brimmed in his eyes, his fists clenched as they made the arms of the throne crack. He ground his teeth before barking, "Well?! Don't just stand there, you idiot boy! Kill them!"

I ground my teeth as well. "Father, they're beaten! You want me to execute prisoners who cannot fight back?" I responded boldly. "Prisoners are our responsibility whilst they can still be ransomed…"

"You dare question me, boy?! Kill them _NOW!_ " Father bellowed. He looked as if he would explode from anger.

"No Father! This goes directly against all I've been taught as a warrior!"

"I won't argue the point any further," he said with a tone of finality. Unclenching his fists and standing up, he held out a single hand and a grouping of runes crowded around him, the glowing letters swarming like insects; they disappeared quickly, however, as a massive trail of fire slithered toward the prisoners, wrapping around the two Lancers and almost completely incinerating them.

I swore audibly. The runes appeared once more and the massive fire snake came along with it; its undulating flames danced as they surged across the ground toward Kaze and Rinkah. For a moment, as their eyes opened, I could have sworn I saw fear.

But then I felt the heat all at once as my body moved on its own. Ganglari came up protectively at my chest, and when I opened my eyes again it was as if the fire was being absorbed into the sword. Orange lines stenciled across the black blade, and finally the fire dissipated.

That was Ragnarök, Father's most powerful spell. I had just withstood it—unscathed.

"Mm…?" I heard Kaze say.

"Arin, what are you doing?" cried Elise from the sidelines.

"Unbelievable," Xander said, in a mix of awe and perhaps disappointment, or maybe pride.

"You would dare defy me directly, boy?" Father said dangerously. His scowl said, 'Choose your next words carefully.'

I opened my mouth to say something, but Xander cut me off. "Father, please forgive Arin. He doesn't quite understand the situation," he pleaded. What I thought might have been disappointment I now considered pride.

"Fine, then. Xander, you kill them," Father said simply. "If anyone gets in your way, kill them too." Xander grimaced, and Father bellowed, "DO IT! KILL THEM ALL!"

My elder brother walked toward me and the remaining prisoners, Siegfried shining in his hand. "Stand down, Arin. There's nothing you can do. Please, I don't want to…"

I frowned at him. "No, Xander! I won't let you," I said coldly. I held Ganglari in front of me, diagonally, in a protective gesture. "You'll not pass."

With an almost pained look on his face, Xander swung Siegfried at me. Ganglari met it and the two magic blades kissed; the chill that usually accompanied a strike with Siegfried wasn't present. There was much more to learn about Ganglari's secrets.

Father was right when he said we were nearly on par with each other. Xander and I struck at each other, both of us knowing how the other fought. We parried and struck, sliced and slashed. Finally our swords came together and neither of us would budge, no matter how hard we pressed.

"Why do you refuse, Arin?! You know that the Hoshidans are the enemy," Xander hissed.

"Do you forget, Brother? Teaching me about the mercy owed to all—even prisoners, even Hoshidans?" I inquired. "Those who cannot fight back should be protected. They could even be ransomed."

Xander looked conflicted, but only broke apart. He said nothing; there was something in his eye that looked akin to shame. Maybe he had forgotten, all this time fighting the war.

"Please don't fight, Arin! Dear, sweet Arin," Camilla pleaded.

"No, no! Leo, there has to be something we can do!" Elise said.

Leo sighed. "Why does this always fall upon my shoulders?"

I couldn't see what he was doing; my eyes were completely focused on Xander, ready to strike back should he make one wrong move. The next thing I knew, a fiery cloak wrapped itself around Rinkah and Kaze, and they disappeared in a flash of light. I would have sworn they had been incinerated.

Angrily, I whirled toward where Leo stood, glaring at him murderously. He winked at me, the bastard.

"Father, I have dispatched them in the place of my soft-hearted brother," he said in a sickeningly sweet tone. Father grunted. "I only ask that you show mercy to Arin…"

"ENOUGH," Garon rumbled. "I'll consider the matter later." And with that he left the room, with his footsteps ringing out like a drum. _DOOM! BOOM! DOOM! BOOM!_

I stormed toward Leo, ready to strike him. I had never been so enraged, and certainly not toward my little brother. "Leo! Why?! They were defeated, you didn't have to fucking kill—"

Camilla gasped; I doubt she had ever heard me swear before. Leo grinned at me. "I know. Now shut it."

Realisation dawned on me. As much as he liked to test people, he knew better. "Leo, did you…"

Xander came up to us. "Enough, both of you. It's done." I didn't look at him. "Arin… one day, that kind heart of yours is going to get the best of you. You know that?"

I finally turned and looked at him. There was a tiny smile on his face. "Maybe so. I'll die happy though," I replied. This was a sort of make-up conversation between the two of us. He would be upset for me being too kind, usually in talks about war, and I would give that reply.

His smile widened as he pulled me in for a hug. "Well said," he said quietly. After he withdrew, he turned to a Nohrian guard stationed at the throne. "Guard, I would examine the prisoners' possessions. Bring their remains to my quarters."

"Aye, Your Highness!" the soldier declared, hurrying off.

"Leo, your spell…"

"It weakened them. Teleported them a little ways away," Leo replied, waving his hands toward where Kaze and Rinkah were now laying, far away from their position against the structure. "I should have obeyed Father, but you know how Camilla and Elise get."

I grinned at him. "I'm sorry," I said, hugging him. His hair barely tickled my chin. "Shorty."

"This is the thanks I get?" he deadpanned, smiling nonetheless.

Elise barrelled into me again as Leo withdrew. I stumbled a bit before steadying myself and spinning her around briefly. "You were so great, Brother!" she said happily as I sat her down.

"Yes, but I doubt this will be the last we hear of this," Camilla agreed, a little gravely. "Father never forgets a slight."

* * *

The Nohrian night lay around us, guarding us with its shadows like how animals guard their nests. Yellow light flickered in the castle windows. It was somewhat clear, and the moon and a few stars were actually visible.

Our meeting was in secret, in a shrouded part of the castle near an abandoned exit.

Xander's magic sword gleamed in its sheath. Kaze and Rinkah stood cloaked in the darkness, in front of the yawning void of a dark doorway.

"You understand that you are only free because of my brother's kind heart," my elder brother said coolly. "Begone, so that my Father or his men may not discover you."

Kaze looked as if he were about to speak for a moment. The breeze rustled his hair lightly; then in that moment, he was gone, his retreating form already disappearing into the inky blackness of the open corridor.

Rinkah looked fiercely at us. "I'm not some hostage to be freed," she scowled. "You said your name is Arin? When next we meet, you'll pay the iron price."

I smirked a little. "I'd rather not," I said lightly. "Next time we meet, I'd rather us try to be friends."

She scoffed. "Fool. I'm a Hoshidan warrior; do you know what you suggest?"

"I do. And I'm looking forward to the day when the war is over."

She pondered on those words briefly, before cracking a grim smile. "I've heard rumours of a sheltered Nohrian prince, said to know nothing of the world." She seemed to think for a moment, as if choosing her next words. "I see now that those rumours are true. Listen well, Arin. When we meet again, I have no doubt the world will change you. You'll see the error of your ways."

I looked to my brother briefly. When I turned back, she was gone. It was just Xander and I now, two brothers alone in the darkness. I felt his hand on my shoulder.

"Come, Arin. It's late. We should get to bed," he suggested.

I nodded. I looked him in the eyes once more, then put my arms around him and hugged him—just like when we were little.

…Or, at least, when I was little and he was slightly littler. "Thank you, Brother," I said quietly.

* * *

 **Alright folks, that's where we're going to leave off today. I've decided that I'm going to try to keep up a once every week/once every other week upload schedule, and honestly I really do think I can do it. I'm playing Fates a lot, so I've got the inspiration to do it. So… *raises glass* to a bright future!**

 **I want to go ahead and thank the Guest for reviewing, your input is much appreciated! I do think that I'm only going to stick with one girl for Arin, and I definitely agree with your suggestions (Orochi is Hoshidan bae). I'd also like to thank A Furry Cat and x102reddragon for following the story. I'm glad to know you guys are all enjoying the story, and I hope you're enjoying this chapter.**

 **In regards to some of my other created characters, they mostly won't appear until after the Big Decision. I don't really have much else to say here; I'm kind of trying to stall here actually, because I'm not used to** _ **not**_ **recapping the chapter here—I just don't think it's necessary. Also, one quick thing, did any of you catch my whole thing about comparing the feeling of being healed to the colour green? There's nothing really behind it; I just associate healing with green. Why am I telling you? I don't need to explain my reasoning for it.  
**

 **Anyways, as always, thank you so much for your time, and so…**

 **Take care, brrrrrrrush yo hair, I'll see ya when I see ya, PEACE!**

 **~Chase**

 **P.S. Just wanted to say that this chapter got to 7k words. Just thought it'd be cool to share.**


	3. II: The Bottomless Canyon

**Disclaimer: This is the last time I'm going to say it—unless I'm forced to keep doing it. I own nothing.**

* * *

 **II: The Bottomless Canyon**

It hadn't even been a day when Elise wrangled me into pushing my luck with Father. She came to my quarters (conveniently placed next to Camilla's) early in the morning and started pounding on my door, urging me in her cheery voice to wake up. I was glad that I had locked my door that night; if I hadn't, I am sure that my darling little sister would have barged in and kept pestering me until I woke up.

Instead, she settled to beating on my door like a drum until I finally got tired of hearing it and, after dressing of course, went to open it. Her form barrelled into me, her face buried in my doublet, which was no longer pristine and unwrinkled. Felicia would probably kill me, but anything to get Elise to be quiet.

"Arin! I'm so happy to see you!"

It took me a moment for me to realise that she was crying.

"And I'm happy to see you too," I said, a little awkwardly. "Why are you crying?"

She hugged me tighter, her blonde hair swaying as she shook her head. "I thought… I thought Father might have sent someone to kill you," she said softly. "I heard some of the guards… they were talking…" she trailed off.

"Well… typically if you heard someone, they would be talking," I said, trying to lighten the mood. She looked up at me and gave me a watery smile; I put my arms around her and hugged her tightly. "I'm fine, Elise. If Father wants me dead, he would have done it in the throne room."

"Right!" she said, perking up at once. She smiled at me. "Come on! We're going to go talk to Father." She grabbed my hand and started pulling me out the door.

"Elise, it's not even breakfast time yet," I protested. "Shouldn't we face him on a full stomach?"

"Nah, it's better this way," she claimed. "That way, if he unnerves you, you'll be less likely to throw up!"

She sounded so chipper that I wanted to laugh, but I could only say in a deadpan, "…Wonderful."

* * *

After being so rudely interrupted from my magnificent, nightmare-free slumber by my darling little sister, we travelled—without breakfast, regretfully—from my quarters along the eastern side of the castle toward Father's throne room. In the early hours of Nohrian morning, I had to carry a torch with us as we walked so that we could see in front of us; the orange glow of the dancing firelight flickered off dark stone walls and cut through the seemingly unending blackness.

I never realised until that moment how dark Nohr really could get. Even without the fact that the sun rarely rose in Nohr until almost midday, the massive walls that sprouted up aboveground, spiraling into an almost shell-like formation but for the singular opening at the top, blocked most sunlight coming in unless it was directly overhead or diagonal to it. However, there was some strange enchantment on the castle that filtered in sunlight from above through the windows and even gave us views of the outside. If there was one thing I enjoyed about Castle Krakenburg (come to think of it, there probably was only this one thing) it was the fact that the shell-like walls and being so far below ground guarded us from the cold bite of the Nohrian mornings. Sure, it was a bit stuffy and the air wasn't particularly aromatic outside, but it was a small price to pay for some warmth. It was this dark, staleness that made me compare the castle to a tomb—and the statues that dotted the courtyards, with their stone masks carved into grotesque expressions, weren't helping that matter.

"Oh, Arin! Look out!" I heard Elise call when my eyes were staring at the cloudy sky barely visible through that hole. My body thudded into something made of stone, with jagged protrusions here and there that I'm glad weren't sharp.

When I looked to see what I ran into, I almost screamed.

It was one of the stone statues, though it was probably Elise's height instead of the prevailing tall statues. It was riddled with little holes and cracks from probably centuries of existence; it was wide and lumpy, and until I held my torch up to it I couldn't even tell what it was.

The face was the most terrifying part. The elements had only made the statue more creepy, deepening the caverns of its wrinkles, making its mouth a gaping void that could have been home to some sort of small beast; stringy stone hair flowed about it as if trapped in water, and its eyes were opened wide in a sightless glare. Its expression, trapped somewhere between a battle cry, anguish, and pure horror was blood-chilling.

After recovering from the initial shock, I tried to laugh it off, managing a faint gurgling noise. "So, uh… who was this?" I asked; many of these statues were of historical figures, and perhaps Elise, as a lifelong resident, would know who it was.

She drew near and knelt down, looking around the base for perhaps a nameplate. "Um… judging from its height, it could either be Mance the Bard or maybe Styr the Outsider…" she trailed off, "but I don't know." And she urged me onward again.

* * *

The massive black doors of Father's throne room loomed before us, ornately patterned with gold and silver; the set of double-doors were wide across, far enough for Xander and I to lie long-ways between, and at least twice that tall, curving as it drew nearer to the ceiling and tapering off in a sharp point, like an upside-down shield. What could be waiting behind those portals? For what I knew of Father before this week, and what I learned yesterday, he could be torturing prisoners for all I knew; part of me still hoped that he had been simply testing me, though the other part knew that it was a mere childish wish.

"You're sure about this, Elise?" I asked, my stomach growling low like a dragon. "About the no breakfast part."

Elise grinned at me, the blue light from the torches in their sconces casting a multitude of colours on her face and hair; her eyes sparkled in a starburst of colours—green, blue, red… I found myself getting reassured by her presence. "You're gonna be fine, brother! I'll go in with you if it makes you feel better," she said, taking my hand and squeezing it gently. "This is Father we're talking about! He has to forgive you, doesn't he? You are his son after all."

I offered her a small smile. Somehow I didn't think it was going to be that easy. "Thank you, Elise. What would I do without you?"

"Mm, I imagine you'd probably flounder and beg for your measly life," she teased. We shared a brief laugh, the situation just momentarily becoming happy, before the oppressive stuffiness of the castle and our plan. "All right, deep breaths," she said slowly, breathing deeply; she smoothed down her clothes then motioned for me to do the same, then rapped loudly on the door thrice. "Father! We have something we'd like to speak with you about," she called.

That was the first time I ever heard Father's laugh, booming from behind the massive wooden shield. I could imagine the wood from the Kings of Night shuddering from the malicious intent spouted out with those deep, bellowing laughs. That was not something I ever wanted to hear again.

"What…?" I said lowly.

"Sounds like he's got company… maybe we should come back later…" Elise trailed off, wheeling around and getting ready to walk the other way… until we heard Father's gruff voice.

It lacked the hollow quality of yesterday, but it still was no warmer than I had ever heard it—that is to say, it was quite frigid. "Who's there?" He bellowed.

"Sorry to bother you, Father!" Elise apologised.

"Our apologies if this isn't a good time," I said, not completely sincere. I couldn't just outright show sorrow to someone who had ordered me to kill four helpless people, could I? Even if he was my father?

"What do you two want?" Garon rumbled, a force like a blast of wind slamming against the doors. They groaned and creaked at their hinges.

"I would like to…" I swallowed. I had to make myself say it. "I would like to apologise for my insolence yesterday. It wasn't my place."

The response came back after a moment of pause, as if he were mulling it over. I couldn't be sure, but I thought there was some sense of satisfaction in his voice—or was it disbelief? "You may enter." Ordinarily I wouldn't imagine there to be much emotion in Father's voice, but the way he drawled it out made me think otherwise; of course, it could have been the heavy doors distorting his tone, but it was still worth investigating nonetheless.

Elise and I made toward the doors, preparing to push them with all our might, before they swung open as if they were on a mechanism. We stumbled briefly, having braced ourselves to slam into the doors, but regained our composure quickly.

If the castle itself was a stone tomb, a mausoleum, then Father's throne room was a grave. Though it had hardly been warm yesterday when I visited, it seemed only colder now; embers popped in their braziers with a malicious cackle, exuding freezing cold instead of warmth, and they burnt dimly, drawing out the shadows in the room. It felt enclosed, and I became aware of the thousands of pounds of stone hovering over our heads in the roof and also at the sides of the castle.

As the feeling of claustrophobia rushed in, I realised Elise was right; it was a good idea to go without breakfast.

With slow, careful steps my sister and I made our way to the centre of the room. The tapestries and banners moved gently, as if rustled by some unseen breeze; they too were affected by the cold light, taking on an almost frozen appearance… as Elise and I walked, part of me wanted to reach out and touch one, to see if it truly were as brittle as ice. My eyes settled on one that stayed purely stationary; the gentle winds that jostled the other tapestries did not touch it.

 _The Harvest of Sorrow_ , I recalled as I saw the middle panel. It depicted a man and a woman, a Nohrian noblewoman and a peasant, so the legends said, standing in front of a formless dark blue wall that seemed to rise and rise until it became a blob with dark red eyes. According to the story, the peasant and noblewoman loved each other truly, but the woman was married off to a lord; I can't remember the details but the peasant man and the noblewoman found each other again and began a relationship, and she got with child and the woman's husband found out. The peasant was supposedly a farmer, so the lord set out with his men, armed with sickles and pitchforks, and slaughtered the smallfolk before bringing his wife's lover to the grisly scene; he asked him if he regretted what he had done, if he had any sorrow for the lives of the lost people, and the peasant replied that he would do it all over again. He killed the peasant, and then his wife. A sad tale; I remembered that it was often told in song, and that Felicia enjoyed to hum it.

Felicia always said that the peasant man's name was Arin. I was never sure if that was actually his name, in fact to this day I still am not sure, but remembering that just made me feel a weird connection to the story. Any confidence in me was crushed when I saw that tapestry; I wasn't ready to face Father.

I did not dare look up at him as we approached the throne. His icy stare was on me the whole time; Elise lightly touched my shoulder, and we knelt before him. "Rise," he said gruffly; the many moments of uncomfortable silence that followed left me worrying that he was going to have me ran through, and left me wondering how he would do so. Would a guard just step up to me, whisper, "King Garon sends his regards," and stab me? Or perhaps a group would surround me, say, "For the kingdom," and stab me? So many possibilities…

…And I was truly surprised to find that he did neither.

"Look at me, Prince Arin of Nohr," he commanded; I did as I was told, not wanting to anger him. His stone face seemed more or less unchanged from yesterday, though his permanent frown seemed more scornful and his eyes burned with a cold fury. "You defied a direct order from me; you outright questioned me. Were you not my child, you would be lucky to be whole."

"I understand, Father. I offer my sincerest apologies for my insolence," I said, bowing my head.

This seemed to placate him, at least a little. The blazing fury was now a slightly smoldering anger, though it still threatened to catch fire and grow back into the previous rage, if not worse. "I have something in mind for you, Arin. I suppose you could consider this a mission; if you are able to complete it, I will pardon you in full. Your insolence will be forgiven."

"Anything, Father! Ask and it shall be done," I said.

"On our border with Hoshido, near the Bottomless Canyon, there is an abandoned fort; I am interested to know if the fort can be serviced, and what repairs are necessary. Travel there and inspect the fortress; there should be no need to battle," Father explained. Occasionally he looked as if he were going to stand up, clenching his hands on the arms of his chair and leaning forward slightly with a little grunt, but he never stood. He had maintained a very calm, even voice that whole time, speaking with no malice at all—unfortunately, no sort of love, either. Venom leaked into his tone as he added this last part, "I will not tolerate failure twice, do you understand?"

"Of course, Father. It shall be done," I agreed, bowing lowly to him. A huge weight was lifted off my chest; he wasn't going to have me put to death. Good thing, too—living is quite fun.

"Begone, then," Father said, waving us off. I truly am glad that Elise left the talking to me; Father probably would not have liked it if I let my little sister talk for me. He might have seen it as a sigh of weakness.

Though looking at it from her side, she has lived with Father longer than I have; she would know what could upset him. He likely would have wanted me to speak for myself, since it was my own crime I wished to make amends for. Nonetheless, I am thankful she let me speak for myself.

Our footsteps echoed off the walls with a hollow sound, clattering like stones disturbing the eternal silence of a tomb. I felt his cold eyes on my back as we retreated; I sped up a little, taking my sister's hand and pulling her with me. As soon as we were out of the room, the doors groaned shut; "Run, little prince, run," they seemed to say.

I was very glad to be out of there.

When the doors were shut tight behind us and Father's piercing gaze no longer reached me, I turned and enveloped Elise in a hug. "Thank you, Elise, thank you so much," I said, smiling brightly, relieved. "I honestly don't think I could have done it without you."

She hugged me back, beaming at me. "We're family! It's our job to be supportive of each other," she said. "I know you would do the same thing for me. Besides, I love you tons and tons!"

"You're right, I would do the same thing. And you know why?" I grinned at her. "Because I love you tons and tons too." She leaned up and gave me a kiss on the cheek; my heart fluttered a little.

* * *

Later that day, Elise and I lunched with our other siblings in Camilla's quarters, which, as I previously mentioned, were right next to mine. I was surprised how luxurious they were—though I suppose I shouldn't have been; she was a princess of Nohr, after all.

Velvety drapes were laid across rods attached to the wall above the tall, arched windows; her apartment faced eastward, the windows placed in a manner so that they might draw in the first rays of midday sun, which now bloomed over the horizon and painted orange and red blossoms over the light-blue walls of my sister's dining room.

Though she did not give us the full tour, I did not need it to know how big the apartment was; the sitting room was large enough to accommodate the five of us, and probably Felicia, Gunter and others too if they came. Her furniture was made of hard wood with soft cushions, and when I fell back into the couch with Leo at my side, I practically sank into it. It was quite exquisite.

The sitting room was not orientated eastward, so the only way the sunlight was able to breach in through a square-shaped area cut out from her wall that caught light from the high windows—candlelight flickered in numerous sconces around the room to keep it lit. Its walls were a royal blue, fading at the top in gradients to a light lavender. There were more plants than I expected, varying from ferns and flowers and even a small potted tree on one of the side-tables; for some reason I truly hadn't expected Camilla to be the sort to grow things—but looking back on it, she was one of the driving forces in my growth, so I shouldn't have been so surprised. I guess I just tended to forget how my siblings have nurtured me over the years, despite Father's lack of attention.

Currently we sat at Camilla's large table, the dark, polished wood shining pristinely in the sunlight; plates and utensils clattered about as a few servants brought around dishes. Leo was acting sullen, though it was only a façade because Camilla had disallowed him to use magic at the table. Surprisingly enough, he wasn't going to push his luck—we both knew Camilla could be quite scary when angered. He sat next to me; I was at Camilla's right, with her at the front of the table (it was her quarters, of course she would be at the head) and Elise across from me, with Xander next to her. We were enjoying the usual banter we carried out when they came to visit me at the Northern Fortress, but then Leo brought up my mission which he had somehow heard about—I personally blamed the loose lips of guards. I gave them details so as not to worry them, but that only seemed to make them more concerned.

"Arin, darling, you will be careful won't you? Promise you'll come back to us okay," Camilla pleaded, seizing my hand and nuzzling it. "I don't like this."

"Of course, Camilla. It's an abandoned fort, it should be perfectly fine," I tried to reassure her, attempting to pry my hand back but eventually relenting. Perhaps it would be better to just let her do whatever, because either way I wouldn't be able to get free. "There's no need to worry."

Leo cleared his throat and said grimly, "You're acting… surprisingly calm about this, Arin. You know it's not in Father's nature to be forgiving."

"That's enough, Leo! Don't be like that, Arin's Father's son too, of course he will forgive him! Don't try to scare Arin like that," Elise protested, and judging from how far she leaned back in her chair, she probably went and kicked Leo under the table.

"Hey! That's not necessary!" Leo protested.

Camilla finally released my hand. "I suppose I'll just need to tag along. I need to ensure Arin's safety," she said in a determined tone. She looked at me with protectiveness in her eyes.

A cool, almost serpentine voice seemed to slither from out of the doorway to the sitting room, "I am afraid that will be quite impossible, my princess…"

"Iago!" Camilla blurted.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" asked Xander bluntly.

"The door was open," mused the voice. If I hadn't previously known of Iago, I wouldn't have been able to discern whether the person speaking was male or female.

Leo looked back and leaned slightly. "No it wasn't!" he retorted, before being cut off by Iago.

"You shut up," said Iago bluntly. He swept into the room with a mystical aura about him; his hair was as black as a Nohrian night, and it was long, stringy and unkempt. It grew wild and untamed, like a vine. His skin was deathly pale, a perfect corpse resident for the mausoleum of Castle Krakenburg. Iago was Father's right hand man, as I have already mentioned, and just looking at him made my skin crawl. He wore black robes that seemed to absorb light, with gold trim and a gold shoulder pads, as well as a golden helmet that cut through the hair on the side of his head and protruded in a rib-like formation; a little golden spike jutted up jaggedly through his black hair and cut its path to the back of the helmet. His visible yellow eye swivelled toward me, almost hungrily, and he licked his lips. "King Garon intends for this mission to be a test; a Nohrian royal must prove their strength, and as his top advisor, I have been entrusted with organising the mission. He wishes to see if the young prince is worthy, and your presence would only mess with the results."

I mustered up my best smile for Iago. It felt, and probably looked, incredibly forced. "I understand. I wish to prove my worth as well, Iago," I said with a nod, turning to Camilla. "Please understand, Camilla, I must do this all by myself."

"Not _all_ by yourself," Father's voice boomed out from the doorway; I hadn't heard the door open. He looked like a mountain in there, quite literally barely able to fit through the doorframe.

"Father! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you enter," Camilla apologised.

I bowed my head courteously at Father. I had to wonder, what was that tone in his voice? It almost sounded caring—but I knew better, it could not be that.

"Rest assured, I don't intend to send you out there defenceless." He took two massive, lumbering steps forward, ducking under a chandelier, and revealing another man standing in the doorway.

This man, however, was bald and muscular, but not too tall. He had a permanent scowl etched into his face, looking at all of us with a sort of baleful resentment. His gaze lingered briefly on Xander. "…Milords," he said curtly.

"This is Hans," said Father, "he is a veteran warrior. Should any troubles come your way, he will be there to aid you."

"Thank you, Father," I said. Father nodded briefly and turned away; he, Iago and Hans trooped out, the latter slamming the door behind him.

"Well, that was a nice visit," Leo said, trying to lighten the mood. No one laughed; you could cut the tension with a knife.

Xander frowned. "I would be careful around that man, Arin," he said finally.

"Why is that?" I asked.

"Who's the paranoid one now?" teased Leo, chuckling; Xander silenced him with a piercing look.

Xander turned his gaze back to me, showing genuine concern. "He's a criminal; I brought him in myself. Murder, theft, rape… the list goes on. Father thinks him rehabilitated, but I disagree; nonetheless, he is a very formidable soldier."

I nodded once. "I'll be careful. Thank you, Brother."

Later that night, as I was packing, I made a decision to also bring my lance. It was not my weapon of choice, but reach was something that could prove useful.

* * *

A few days after, we set out for the Bottomless Canyon, Gunter, Felicia and I, as well as the last-second addition, Hans. My retainers and I rode ahead, talking and joking and telling stories as we rode across the Nohrian lands toward the east, crossing a patchwork of fields and hills and rivers. We would start in early morning, carry a single torch between us, and ride until night fell and true darkness covered the land. As bad as it was to ride in Nohrian mornings, it was even worse to ride in the Nohrian nights.

Finally grass and trees gave way to desolate stretches of barren rock and brown, dry soil dotted here or there with dead weeds; crags dug numerous channels through the stony land that had never been cultivated by the hands of men. The mountains that, at the castle, were so far off they could barely be seen, now loomed above us, a line of jagged teeth cutting a path between Nohr and Hoshido. The sun rose sooner and the sky was clearer here, and the days lasted longer; the Nohrian chill only came around at nighttime, and here it was at its coldest, so cold that we would keep the fire going as long as we could and slept close together to conserve body heat. It was also hotter here during the daytime, and the sun beat down on us with unyielding heat.

Then, my heart skipped a beat when I finally saw it: an immense, jagged scar slicing its way through the land. I spurred Snowcrest into a trot and he beat his wings a few times, taking off; I gasped slightly. The Bottomless Canyon ran for perhaps half a mile before it was completely swallowed by shadows. When we landed, Gunter looked at me.

"Surprised?" he asked with a grin, the sunlight glinting off his armour.

"I didn't expect it to actually be bottomless," I replied in a voice filled with awe.

We kept riding for a few more hours until we came to the place. The sky was dark and cloudy, a swirling abyss with lightning slithering about like sea serpents in a black sea; twisted, charred trees were scattered about the landscape like skeletons, a hot breeze coursing through and causing their dead branches to rub together. "You are not welcome here," they whispered in ancient, creaky voices, "no mortal is welcome here."

For a moment I thought we had reached the entrance to the underworld.

"Can it… can it truly be bottomless?" I asked. The mountains were now so close to us, and the Canyon even closer.

"Let the eternal darkness of its yawning void be your answer. No one who has fallen down it would be in a condition to tell us, so we have only our assumptions… Lord Arin, I truly despise this place," Gunter said. He almost sounded… a little afraid… "Something about the area just isn't right. The sky, the trees, the land itself… this isn't a place for the living. I'd suggest going around, but the fort King Garon wished for us to look at is dead ahead."

It was true; across the canyon, the crumbling remains of a fort, complete with towers and walls, sat in an eternal rest, uninterested at our presence. The only way across originally appeared to be a crumbling bridge, though upon further examination we discovered that the bridge itself had long broken away, now replaced with a long rope bridge spanning the length of the Bottomless Canyon. I, personally, was not about to trust mine and Snowcrest's lives to the strength of some ropes. "This might be the boy who grew up stuck in a fortress, but this is almost exciting," I had to admit, grinning.

Gunter smiled. "That certainly puts things into perspective. Come, let's be done with this," he said. He, Felicia and I rode on. Hans was, once more, a ways back.

We came nearer to the bridge; I was preparing to break off and fly across, and Felicia seemed ready to dismount… but then, like shadows, the forms appeared. Hoshidans, at least ten of them, all clad in the light armour of Hoshido, stood resolute on the bridge. I was surprised, and not even from their appearance—I was more surprised that the bridge was steady. I knew that something bad would have to happen soon.

"Damn! This place is swarming with Hoshidans… how did they get here?!" whispered Gunter furiously. He gripped the reins of his steed tightly.

"Halt! Go no further, soldiers of Nohr!" bellowed one of the soldiers, a Lancer armed with a naginata. The curved blade winked like the flicker of starlight whenever lightning flashed through the sky.

Suddenly a ninja stepped from the throng; his spiky brown hair was held back behind a black band of cloth that stretched around his head, and his light armour, probably made of leather, was a curious blend of tans and blacks that reminded me of a cat Elise once had. He also wore black gauntlets, with spikes protruding from them—similar to what Kaze wore. I took that moment to wonder what had become of the prisoners, and whether or not they still lived. He and a small detachment of the men stepped toward us, but kept their distance.

"My name is Omozu; I am the commanding officer of this fort. Cross no further, or you shall be violating the border treaty between our countries," the ninja, now identified as Omozu, said, "turn back now. If you do not, we will be forced to attack, and we will not hold back."

I held up a hand and gave Felicia and Gunter the quiet order to back off. Hans was still nowhere to be seen. "My deepest apologies, Hoshidans," I said, attempting to defuse the situation. "Our commander ordered us to inquire about the conditions of this fort; we were under the impression that it was uninhabited. We will leave at once…"

"YAAAAAH!"

The yell came out of nowhere, piercing through the air only a few seconds faster than the axe. For the first time since arriving at the canyon I saw my criminal 'comrade…' in truth, I had hoped he had gotten lost and perhaps fallen into a crag. His mount was gone and he ran furiously toward the Hoshidans, and in an almost superhuman leap he reached a Samurai, burying the head of his axe in the Hoshidan's chest. He freed the axe and struck down the ninja's other companion, the same Lancer who addressed us when we first arrived; Omozu fell back toward the Hoshidan ranks. My blood boiled at the sight of Hans's insubordination.

"You will pay!" cried Omozu angrily. "Soldiers of Hoshido, attack! No quarter for these murderers!"

Hans stood on the bridge, laughing smugly. I stormed up to him and pushed him roughly. "HANS! What the fuck was that?! There was no reason to engage these troops," I roared.

He pushed me back. Harder. I almost stumbled. "Speak for yourself, weakling," he said, sneering at me. With a wicked laugh, he turned and ran toward the Hoshidan lines, ready to cause more trouble.

 _I should have killed him_ , I thought angrily. I looked past the charging bald man and saw, at the end of the rope bridge, a wooden fortification, not too tall and honestly quite shabby looking. Hans probably could just bowl into it and knock the flimsy structure down, not even needing to hack it apart with his axe. There were a few Hoshidans bracing themselves to fight, but Omozu was not there. I looked further down to the fort, where there was less of a force; I couldn't see him, but I figured he was probably there.

"We'll have to fight," said Gunter, trotting back to my side. "But we'll never get across the way Hans is going," he added. "Even if he breaks through that fortification, the soldiers are concentrated there. He won't make it."

I nodded grimly. "We will need to find another way…" I silently prayed they wouldn't have archers. I could get across easily enough with Snowcrest, but if there were any archers I would be like a sitting duck; I could not see any, but I remained on the ground to be cautious. I gently kicked his flanks and he cantered down, our southward path parallel to the canyon. I could see no archers, nor anyone capable of using bows, but there were several promontories jutting up from the ground, pillars of blackened rock reaching skyward. They could perhaps offer cover, but… wait… I started to feel a pull. Despite all that had happened, I almost wanted to smile.

"Gunter! Felicia!" I called; my retainers came to my side. "There is a Dragon Vein near," I explained softly; "I think that it may cause one of these rocks to fall over and create a bridge… it might provide us with a path to the fort." It was just a theory, but I thought that, based on my previous Dragon Vein experience—that is, the Veins doing exactly what I needed at that time—it was a decent guess.

"Very well, milord," Gunter said.

"Arin… milord…" Felicia added hastily, looking up at me with her blue eyes. There was something in there, but I couldn't tell what it was. "If that is what happens… what's to stop the Hoshidans from rushing to meet us?"

"Nothing," I said softly, "but this will likely give them a nice surprise. They'll probably be stunned for some time, hopefully long enough for us to take the fort."

"Milord, you must know," said Gunter, "this isn't training. These men are coming with intent to kill…"

"I know, Gunter, I know," I said regretfully. "I hoped it wouldn't come to this, but they will not hold back. If we wish to survive this, we, too, must come at them with the intent to kill."

Gunter placed a gauntleted hand on my shoulder. "Milord… Arin… I have watched you grow into a wonderful, honourable young man. I want you to know, I am proud of you. So very proud of you." There was only fatherly love in his eyes.

I smiled back at him. "Thank you, Gunter. I wouldn't be what I am without your training and influence," I said, stretching out my arm and putting it on his shoulder. "Now… stand back, both of you." I dismounted from Snowcrest and wandered briefly, kicking a few rocks, until the pull of the Dragon Vein became strongest; I squeezed my eyes shut, concentrated, and let out a loud grunt.

The ground began to shake. Showers of rocks fell from the stone pillars, and the unmistakable sound of something that had been fused together for centuries breaking apart filled the air. I opened my eyes and heard the rush of wind; a rocky spire fell straight forward, stretching across the yawning void and latching onto the cliff on the other side. The path would take us directly to the front of the fort.

As dust rose up and created a heavy cloud around us, I quickly ran and mounted Snowcrest. "Gunter, Felicia! With me!" I ordered. My retainers were on my heels quickly.

I can only imagine that the sight of a pink-haired young man mounted atop a pegasus, an iron-haired Great Knight who looked old enough to be my grandfather (if I even had one—for all I knew of the old King, Father might have created himself), and a Maid rushing out of the dust-cloud was either so hilarious that it was stunning, or so terrifying that they couldn't quite grasp what just happened. Either way, the nearest Hoshidan didn't see it coming when the jet-black blade of Ganglari lashed out and caught him in the throat.

Hot, sticky blood sprayed out onto my forearm, and for a brief moment I felt sick. Then I remembered Gunter's words and I swallowed my discomfort. There would be time for that later; now was the time for victory.

Gunter rode ahead and took a Samurai in the chest with his lance, then swung it around and drove it through the throat of a Lancer. He looked so relaxed whilst doing so; his strikes were flowing, almost elegant, coming with the sort of practiced ease that could only be attained through the numerous years of service Gunter had. I wondered if he ever thought about the men he killed.

My arms started to tremble, soon my whole body followed. As much as I tried to beat down my guilt at having taken a life, I couldn't. We were the invaders here. We had come, unwelcome, and because of Hans's actions we were the bad guys.

"Was that your first kill?" came a mocking voice near the fort's great doors. Omozu stood there, waiting for me. "I don't know who, or what you are, but you have woken a sleeping giant, Nohrian. Hoshido's revenge is at hand."

Whilst Gunter and Felicia busied themselves with the lesser Lancers and Samurai, I was about to face off against Omozu. If there was anything I learned from fighting Kaze, it was that Ninjas are tricky foes, and you should never let them get too close—or too far. I patted Snowcrest's side, ran a hand through his mane, and dismounted. I tossed the polished black blade aside, and reached onto my back; in a holster specially made of several straps that could detach and reattach with ease there hung my lance. I knew it would come in handy.

My hands shook as I held the long shaft of wood; the trembling steel tip was unsteady, and I felt sluggish. Taking slow, careful steps and holding my lance lengthwise, I kept my eyes focused on the ninja. As I circled around, he merely eyed me. He made no move…

…until he disappeared in a flash, and I heard his voice coming from behind me, "You have to be more vigilant than that!" I spun around and smacked him with the shaft of my spear, making him falter; I was surprised he didn't get me with his gauntlet spikes. I looked around and saw Gunter riding off toward the north, probably trying to take care of the other Hoshidans. Felicia went over to Snowcrest and prepared to defend him.

I felt stronger when I saw that; I felt like, for my friends, it didn't matter what I did. Just as long as they were safe. My strikes grew faster, steadier; I swung, he tried to block. I thrusted, he backpedalled.

Then, with one final, swift thrust of my lance, metal met flesh. Omozu grunted, but was unable to move; I forced the weapon deeper into him, my own thoughts and feelings lost to an indomitable sense of bloodlust. I struck him again, this time driving the lance all the way through him; I felt it strike the wood of the wall.

Twin trails of blood streaked in rivers of red from the corners of his mouth. "This isn't… over!" he spat.

"Yes. It is," I said cruelly. I brought my lance out once more and caught him in the neck.

* * *

To this day I still do not recall much of what happened next until we were back on the bridge. I have the faintest memory of a Ninja named Saizo arriving, and asking who led this attack. I told him that it was me, and he scoffed.

"You're nothing more than a boy," he said coldly.

"Boy? I'm taller than you are."

"You shut up. I'm here to kill you," he said bluntly. He raised his spiked gauntlets and prepared to strike… but it never came.

"I will not allow this!" the voice rumbled out across the dry plain like thunder. Hooves galloped across the rock-bridge, and Xander was immediately at my side. Leo and Elise arrived soon after, and the wingbeats of Camilla's wyvern stirred up so much dust that it was as if the pillar had fallen a second time. My siblings came to aid me, and just in time; Saizo had fallen back, but he returned with a larger force of Hoshidan soldiers.

Camilla gave me a motherly look, then cut down two Samurai with her axe. "Why, darling, it's the thought that counts! These bad men wanted to kill you," she said.

Another exchange occurred, but I was still blind to it; the clouds in my mind parted, and I started to realise what I had done. I looked briefly upon Omozu's bloodied corpse, and saw my own handiwork. I felt like I was going to throw up—in fact, I did; I ran to the edge of the canyon and vomited off the side. Gunter's hand fell on my back, and he whispered to me words of reassurance; they calmed me down, slightly, but then he told me that it was perfectly natural, but to accept it. Killing never got easier… and he was right.

He handed me Ganglari, and I holstered it; I would have to clean it later, my lance too.

My siblings saw my condition and sent me on ahead with Gunter. They were going to hang back and make sure no one followed us.

Gunter and I were crossing the bridge, and Felicia was somewhere behind us. We didn't speak much, until, "Milord, might we hurry just a little? I can't stand being on this bridge…"

Hans's ugly laughter filled the air. "Well don't worry. You won't be standing there much longer!"

"Hans…" I growled lowly.

"Less talk, more death!" he said, appearing out of nowhere—just like last time. With one heavy strike of his axe, he cut down Gunter's horse and sent him crashing through the planks, down to the abyss below. I began to shake with rage as I slowly dismounted Snowcrest. "Aww… did I kill your little babysitter? Here, I'll let you jo—"

"YOU'LL… PAY!" I roared, my own voice sounding like Xander's when he would tell me a story about a dragon. I raised my right hand, and it transformed into something like a sword; steam rose all around us, and I felt a guttural snarl coming out in place of my usual breathing. Something enclosed around my head, and I saw through what were like eye slits in a helmet; I slashed at Hans again and again, opening several wounds, until my non-sword hand stretched out, and the formation on it opened like a dragon's maw and spat something at him.

"It can't be…" he breathed, lying on the ground, gasping.

"WHY? Why do you do all this? Tell me before I cut your balls off and shove them down your throat," I ordered. I stalked ever closer to him, holding Ganglari at arm's length; the tip of the sword touched his stomach.

"Just… following orders…" he said, trying to shrink back.

"Wrong answer," I said lowly; the helmet vision was gone, as was the formation on my right hand. I grasped Ganglari's hilt with both hands and rammed it through Hans's stomach. Then I did it again, and again, and again. Hot tears fell down my face; I kept stabbing… then some purple aura formed around Ganglari, and I felt it becoming increasingly hard to swing it.

It yanked itself up into the air, and me with it; I was flying, and I couldn't contain my yells. It dragged me down into the valley, into the abyss below… and I fell. And I fell. The more sarcastic part of me wondered if I would see my own vomit on the way down; a different part wondered if I would see Gunter; and yet another part seemed satisfied that I would finally see the truth about the Bottomless Canyon.

I heard a strange voice, booming yet familiar, reaching my ears. "My kin, my gods, my blood… Dragons grant me strength! Great Moro, I beseech you!" For a brief moment I saw Lilith's eyes right beside me… then I saw the creature, and felt it latch onto me. It was a small reptilian creature, a blend of blue and white, with some red on its head; it wore a maid's bonnet, for some reason, and it had blue and white spines rising out of its back and also a long blue tail.

The words came out of my mouth before I realised what I was saying: "Lilith? Is that… is that you?"

It was her voice that responded as the creature carried me out of the canyon. "I knew this day would someday come, Lord Arin. I am not human," she said. "I am a dragon; an Astral Dragon. You have seen this form before…"

"The bird I rescued from the barn…" I said, recognition filling my voice. I forgot all about the rushing darkness around us. "That was you."

"Yes. Once I recovered, I retook my human form; you were so kind that I decided to remain and serve you… but now I will have to stay in this form. I used my powers to save you, and I cannot return to being a human. I don't mind, though. I just wanted to make sure you're safe," she explained. She faltered a little and we dropped, but soon enough we were rising once more.

"Lilith, drop me if you have to! Don't sacrifice yourself for me!" I said. I had caused too much death today; I would be damned if I killed my friend.

That same booming voice surrounded us once more, echoing off the walls. "First Dragons, I call upon you! Give us access to the astral plane!"

A flash of light encompassed us. I saw only white for what felt like hours… then we were on solid ground again. We were alive.

I opened my eyes and looked around. Crumbling walls formed a weak perimeter around us, and here and there a few small, decrepit buildings lay in varying states of decay. The only things that showed any form of life were the cherry trees, blooming pink; high above us a blue sky full of wispy clouds beamed a bright sun down. I smiled; I had never seen such direct sunlight before.

"Lilith… where are we?"

"This is a world parallel to your own, Arin. This is the astral plane," she explained; she was still her dragon form. In the light, she actually looked somewhat like a fish, her frilly tail fanning out behind her. She clutched a large crystal ball.

"How did you get us here?"

"The First Dragons… they granted us access to this realm. Under their protection, we are safe here." She floated about happily. "OH! Let me prepare a place for you to rest…"

She closed her eyes and a massive tree formed, with a nice-sized house with a curved roof resting in its branches. Though I was interested in the house itself, I was more curious about what she did.

"Did you just use a Dragon Vein?" I asked.

"Yes. The power of the First Dragons flows freely here; space and time operate differently as well," she said. I thought that I had felt the tugging of Dragon Veins in this place.

"Is anyone else here?" I blurted; I knew I had breached a touchy subject when she flinched.

"No… no, we are all alone here."

"I'm sorry," I apologised, "I didn't mean to invoke any bad memories."

Lilith gave me a dragon-smile. "It's alright, Arin. I'm not lonely as long as you're in my life," she said, settling on my shoulder for a brief moment. "Now… you should get some rest."

* * *

When I woke up, I felt much better than I had in years. The feeling of the sun on my skin in the morning was wonderful; usually whenever I woke up, only clouds and brief glimpses of moonlight awaited me.

"How do you feel, Arin? I'm sure this is a lot to take in," Lilith asked, floating over to me in my room.

"It is, but I feel incredible. Much better; my wounds have healed already, it seems. My mind is racing," I said.

"I'll answer all your questions in due time," she promised, "but some unfinished business remains in your world. However… when I send you back, you'll arrive on the Hoshidan border. There may be soldiers waiting for you, you know."

"I'm ready. I can't relax until my siblings know I'm alright," I said, determination filling my voice. Camilla must be so worried about me, and Xander and Leo… and Elise…

"Very well. I'll open the gate…"

Another blinding flash of light, and I felt myself being pulled away. The tugging feeling of the Dragon Veins subsided…

…and again I hit solid ground.

I was ready to face whatever may be waiting for me. My eyes popped open and surveyed my immediate field of view, and found nothing; perhaps a few more stones had tumbled, and maybe a few more planks had fallen from the bridge, but it was more or less the same. The twisted, blackened trees waved skeletal arms in the hot breeze; lightning flashed across the sky.

"Where is everyone…?"

"You're mine, Nohrian!" a familiar female voice called. I was about to turn and meet them, but then something struck me sharply on the head and I knew no more. Darkness surrounded me again.

* * *

 **AND BOOM! 22 pages in Microsoft Word and 8318 words later, Arin is about ready for a big shock. I'd like to apologise for the lateness (well, not really, I said once a week/once every other week) of this chapter, but I have had rehearsals and hockey workouts every single night this week. I haven't had much time to play Fates, but rehearsals are stopping after tomorrow and I'll be mostly free, so yippee!**

 **Anyways, getting on with things, I would like to thank you all for following/favouriting/reviewing. Sugouxxx, x102reddragon, guest, bluebaegon, and also skylar the hedgehog 1 and A Furry Cat. You guys are the inspiration that really keeps me going with this.**

 **Now onto my favourite part of all this: answering reviews! Let's start out with x102reddragon: I actually do enjoy the pairing of the Avatar and Azura, because they** _ **do**_ **have good chemistry; I kind of compare it to Awakening with Chrom and Sumia. However, for this story and for what I plan to have Arin become, I'm not sure if Azura would be right for him. Thank you very much for your review, though! I really do appreciate it.**

 **Dearest Guest, you are most definitely right about that. I agree, the Fates female cast is much stronger than Awakening's, with much more personality imo. I think I will stick to one girl, though Arin might gain feelings for other girls but never act on it (hint: earlier on this chapter may or may not be foreshadowing for something). I regret to say I probably won't be doing Revelations, because I haven't played it myself so I can't give it proper justice, I don't think. Despite this, I'm definitely going to try and capture feelings from all sides, with extra chapters that follow Nohrian and Hoshidan alike (I think I actually mentioned that in a previous AN), because it's really both sides that get affected by decisions like this. However, once I play Revelations I may do another story with perhaps another character—after all, this is Arin's story, y'know? And thank you! I'm a big fan of authors like Tolkien and George R. R. Martin, who are known for their big attention to detail, so they're sort of a driving force for my detailing. Thank you so much for your review, seeing an 'anonymous review' email always gets me excited, because I always enjoy getting your feedback on the chapters.**

 **Finally, to bluebaegon, thanks for reviewing! I have to agree, I always got a little disappointed that no matter what you picked as the Avatar's possible other class they never let you act on it until you got a seal; and I do believe it is canon that the Avatar loves animals (I doubt he would have been so keen on helping Lilith if he weren't) so that's also a little odd. In regards to your concerns, I won't say much, but as to how I'm planning it, I don't think you'll be disappointed ;)**

 **Lastly, I wanted to say that soon we'll be meeting a few of my own created characters, and I'll go ahead and give you a name, just because I figure it might give you some hints of what's coming and I really love doing that: there is one whose name is Magnar. Theorise with that what you will.**

 **As always, thank you all so much for your time, and so…**

 **Take care, brrrrrrush yo hair, I'll see ya when I see ya… PEACE!**

 **~Chase**

 **P.S. This author's note almost added an extra 1000 words onto this chapter. Also, just a question for you all, feel free to answer it—or not: if you played Awakening, who was your favourite person(s) to marry? My top 3 are Sumia, Cordelia and actually a tie between Tharja and Olivia. As much as I love the godly Morgan produced by Lucina, I just can't get that into her. I've only done one run with a female MU, and I think I married Chrom in that, so I can't say anything there. Also just a few more words and the word count is OVER NINE THOU—*shot by Team Four Star***


	4. i: Dondarrion

**i: Dondarrion**

Somewhere in the cold, dark room that was Iago's lab, liquid splattered against the floor in a steady drip. It fell from its container and splashed against the floor, scattering in millions of little droplets over the dried-up tributaries etched in the stone bricks. Though the water and the containers were new, the bricks were many years old and had seen the many atrocities committed in that room.

A light fog fell across the ground, blanketing it in a white shroud that bore the metallic smell of blood and the deathly stench of decay. Every now and then, a hiss would come from somewhere in the room and the fog would get thicker for a moment, sometimes even crawling upward a few inches, before flattening back to the ground. It crept around the creaky wooden tables, stalked about the bookcases and storage shelves, and snaked about the raised stone platform in the centre of the room, its wispy white tendrils curling around the equally pale feet of Iago, lightly frosting the tips of his black cloak.

He was hard at work, sweat dotting his brow. Oh how long it had been since he had sweated; he wasn't particularly fond of the feeling then, and it felt incredibly strange now. A single solitary candle was lit on a table by his side, a dancing ghost made of fire providing just enough light for him to see as he did his grisly duties. The needle and thread were beside it too; he had hoped he wouldn't have to use them, but Garon wanted the subject to be in proper condition—he couldn't completely close the throat up, the little prince had seen to that, but he only needed to be able to fight; his ability to give commands was never an issue. No one cared much to hear the subject's voice when he were alive, and surely they would care even less after this.

Iago made an incision in the stomach, near a stitched-up wound, reaching into a small box on a shelf and withdrawing a big, fat leech, almost as big as the palm of his hand. The subject had lost quite a bit of blood; some more would be necessary. When he was brought back from the Bottomless Canyon, Iago had a servant bring him a file on the subject from the Nohrian archives with his medical information; he had ascertained the required blood for the subject and then had him brought to his laboratory. The cold would keep the body for as long as he would need, but with the powers newly granted to him the duration of the procedure was drastically decreased.

It wasn't going particularly fast, but he had no right to complain. He held out a pair of forceps, prying the incision open just a little. Dried blood was caked like a reddish-brown flower, a circular wound from some sort of shrapnel being the flower's stigma. Iago turned up his nose for a moment, but shook his head and returned to his work. He grasped the wriggling leech and held it close to the incision, then squeezed it tightly. Blood sprayed as the creature went still, and flowed into the cut.

The King's right-hand man picked up his needle and thread once more, sewing the wound shut. He had no doubts that this would not be the last time he would be doing work like this; war between Hoshido and Nohr wasn't a matter of 'if,' it was a matter of 'when.' Garon would no doubt have specific soldiers he wanted to remain alive, as he had here.

Iago thought for a moment, wiping his brow with a bloodstained hand… not his own hand, of course. The little prince would most likely prove a problem as he had with this subject; there was something odd in that boy, Iago knew, something that felt immensely powerful, perhaps even stronger than what resided in Garon. He wasn't sure what it was, though, for whenever he attempted to use a spell to probe the boy's mind, he could always feel something lurking in the deepest reaches of the prince's being, but it forced him out before he could discover it.

Prince Arin was going to be problematic, he could sense that. A shame, too; the boy had potential. He would have proved a valuable tool to manipulate, but the pink-haired boy was smarter than that. If the Nohrian siblings weren't so fond of him, Iago would have had him killed off long ago.

"Almost there…" Iago said softly, his voice coming out in a low, snakelike hiss. The work with the corpse was done; now all that was left to do was the incantation. He leaned over and blew out the candle, and almost instantly a large ring of candles bloomed into existence, wax covering their bases; they had been burned almost to their endings, but they still flickered almost curiously, long-time watchers. When their watch had first begun, the ghosts danced on the wicks with disgust, abhorred by what the man for whom they kept vigil over would do, but now that they had reached the ends of their lives, they merely looked on, bored, and wondered who the next poor soul was.

"Divine Dragon Anankos…" began the wizard in a deep tone, cold like the grave. He started chanting, asking for assistance from the Divine Dragon himself; a low rumbling echoed around the room, and a fog rose in the shape of the subject's body before coalescing into a singular orb of light, drifting aimlessly around the stone slab for a moment… then with incredible speed, it leapt high into the air and fell even faster back down into the corpse, which shuddered for several moments before finally stopping.

It was done. Garon would be pleased.

A ritual such as this was taboo among the people; even for all his faults, Garon would not be willing to risk the smallfolk finding out about this. It would be said that Iago was able to bring the subject back from the very brink of death, the subject being brought back from the Bottomless Canyon just in time after sustaining serious injuries at the hands of Hoshidans. No one would mention that it was Prince Arin who had caused all this.

With a low, warped-sounding groan, the corpse on the slab slowly sat up. Iago smiled coldly. A success.

"Welcome back to the world of the living," Iago said softly. "Your king has unfinished business for you. You know what is to be done."

Staring evenly at Iago, the newly resurrected Hans nodded. He opened his mouth to speak and only strangled sounds came out; the wizard flinched. "We'll have to work on speech later," he added.

* * *

 **So that's it, the first of quite a few side-chapters, starring none other than Iago! I was watching some Game of Thrones to prepare for the Season 6 premier and the memory of the Lightning Lord himself, Beric Dondarrion, came to mind; of course, I had this previously thought out. After all, for all the crap Hans causes, did you really think that I would have him killed off so easily?**

 **Anyways, so here's how I think it's going to go with side-chapters: I'll release them whenever I get the urge to write them, and whenever I finish them. They will be part of the story, obviously, not just omakes or little, unrelated tales. I honestly probably won't respond to any reviews in this, as these don't offer much in ways of plot; I'll save review responses for the main chapters. They will almost never be in the POV of Arin, and they will rarely span more than a few thousand words; sometimes they'll be humorous, sometimes they'll be relatively serious like this one. Sometimes they will feature OCs, sometimes they will feature characters from the game, and sometimes, as I mentioned in a previous AN, they will be from the eyes of commanders or soldiers on the battlefield. These are just little forays into the minds of others, to examine the world they live in as a whole, not just through the eyes of one man. I do have an idea of how they will play into what I have planned for the end of the story. Also, you'll be able to tell when a chapter is a side-chapter; as shown in the title of this chapter, instead of the uppercase Roman numeral, it's lowercase, sort of similar to how you would label notes on an outline. So, for example, chapter three would be III and side-chapter three would be iii. Not too hard, right?  
**

 **So, two chapters in one day y'all! Well, one main and one side chapter. Be happy, yeah?**

 **As always, take care, brrrrrrush yo hair, I'll see ya when I see ya, PEACE!**

 **~Chase**


	5. III: Kingdom of the Everlasting Sun

**III: Kingdom of Everlasting Sun**

When I finally woke up, I had a strange sense of foreboding; it didn't take me long to figure out that I was somewhere I should not have been. The back of my head still throbbed with pain every now and then, twinging angrily whenever I laid it down like a sharp jab from a poker, and I was sure that if I had enough control over my body and I felt at the spot, I would feel a large welt and only end up causing more pain to myself. I closed my eyes again and drifted off, though not before seeing a flash of vibrant, almost fake red hair…

I lingered on the brink of awakening for a few more days—at least what I thought was a few more days, after all time loses all meaning when you're basically unconscious—before my eyes opened and stayed open. I imagined that after all this time my grey eyes were more like the colour of dulled steel than a freshly sharpened blade, or even ice. My head still throbbed on occasion, but the sharp pain from laying down never returned, and my limbs no longer felt as if they were filled with lead. With great effort, I managed to sit up so I could survey my surroundings.

Immediately I became aware of a warm fire blazing in a little fireplace beside me, a cooking-pot hanging over it. Smoke rose like fallen spirits clawing toward the afterlife, a curious smell permeating my nose; if tastes could have a smell, then this screamed 'spicy.' I contemplated looking inside of it, but decided it would take too much effort; I reclined on my elbows, taking deep breaths. This was physically draining; I was almost out of breath! Perhaps I wasn't in as good a shape as I had believed.

The building I was in was… Hoshidan? The style of architecture was unfamiliar to me, and so I was forced to assume it was Hoshidan. Compared to the usual stone floors common throughout Nohr, the floor, upon which I now lay, and probably had laid upon for several days, was made of a strong, yet soft wood. It was well-worn, though still undeniably magnificent in its own way; there was something about it that made me feel more at home.

In Nohr, since just about everything was made out of stone (or, if one was either very lucky or very rich, wood from a King of Night), the appearances of things rarely changed. Imperfections could be buffed out, cracks repaired; but here? No such luck. These floors were used for years and bore the marks of heavy traffic, and a warm feeling—not from the fire, mind you—enveloped me like a coat.

The walls were made of a similar, weathered wood, though there was no door in my line of sight; I looked around but all I could see where panels where a somewhat see-through screen was stretched out behind a frame of lighter-coloured wood. The ceiling carried a little haze from the fire, though it curled and trailed out through an opening at the pointed top. A few cushions were placed here and there, but otherwise the room was almost completely unadorned; I stifled a chuckle as I imagined how Camilla would react being in here…

 _Camilla_. My siblings. They must have been so worried about me then, no idea where I was, terrified that they may never see their brother again. There was no telling what they were doing; Xander probably gutted hundreds of training dummies by that point. Camilla was more of a wildcard now; just a few days (maybe?) before I had seen her slaughtering Hoshidan troops for threatening to hurt me. Had she done the same, or did she find a different way to cope? Leo was probably going to have a more tame reaction, perhaps animating something with his magic but not doing anything particularly destructive, and Elise…

I felt guilty for leaving her. There was a part of me that immediately assumed that she cried; she was more childish than her age would suggest. The other part wanted to cry, if only in some small way; if _tons and tons_ meant anything, then we weren't supposed to be separated. My place was with her… with all of them. Families stick together.

"Ah, you're awake," I heard a voice say. It was female, and quite familiar, though I couldn't place where I had heard it before. "Sorry about that bump on your head."

I turned my head sharply and regretted it at once—my neck had been so stiff from days of laying down that it caused me pain. Wincing, I stopped turning at once and tried to get a glimpse at the other occupant of the room out of the corner of my eye. I caught a ripple of red hair, undulating like smooth waves of bloody water disturbed by a touch—and then underneath the blood, there was hair as pale as snow.

Blood red, snow white—where had I seen these together? Where had I heard that voice?

Wait—it was coming back to me now. Nohr; Father's palace… Ganglari… the Hoshidan prisoners…

"Rinkah… of the Flame Tribe," I finally croaked, my throat dry. "Is this… where we are? The Flame Tribe?"

"One of our villages, yes," she confirmed. I saw a shift in her body as she slowly stood up; I heard her footsteps as bare feet padded across the soft wooden floor and become farther away. A few moments later, her footsteps returned, and she came to my side, kneeling beside me. "Here. Drink," she said, handing me a small cup, made of some sort of stone that shimmered with a sort of darkness, small starbursts the size of a pinprick catching the light. "It's just water. I didn't bring you all this way to poison you, you know."

When she said this, I realised I was just staring at the cup. It must have been a cautious sort of stare, filled with scrutiny (of course I was merely admiring the cup's craftsmanship), although now that she said it, I did take a quick moment to sniff at it. The liquid inside was odourless; I decided I would put my trust in the warrior from the Flame Tribe—surely she wouldn't have dragged me from the Bottomless Canyon just to kill me, I decided. Slowly bringing the cup to my lips, I felt the cool sensation of liquid streaming over my harshly chapped lips, and down my throat.

Rinkah did not lie. It was just water.

Though the cup was not much larger than my hand, I drank greedily, deeply, until I was trying to suck water from the nooks and crannies. I never realised how horrible it felt to go without drinking for days until now—and I pitied those who suffered this on a regular basis. I heard Rinkah's voice, ringing out in a low giggle like the tolling of the bells in Windmire church steeples.

She took the cup back, gently, and filled it with a pitcher; however, when offered the cup, I took the pitcher and poured the whole thing into my mouth. As I eased into a sitting position, the cooling relief of the fresh water washing over me, I finally was able to ask, my voice clear as normal, "Why did you bring me here?"

Rinkah placed her hand on my back to help me sit up, then took the half-empty pitcher away and set it down. "I found you on the border. As you can assume, it was I who knocked you out. I brought you back here so that I could hand you over to the Hoshidan authorities," she explained. "If what I heard about the situation at the fort is correct, I'm assuming they'll be wanting to speak with you."

I let out a low, bitter laugh. I was like an animal in a menagerie—picked out of my home, taken away from my family, and left to die in the hands of strangers. "An explanation is what they'll be wanting, and an explanation is what they'll get," I replied, softly. "Then, I imagine I will be executed."

She hummed, taking a drink of water for herself. "I don't think so," was all she said, a coy smile turning her lips.

From behind me, I heard a sudden rapping against a wall. Maybe there was a door back there? That was as good a guess as any—unless people knocked on random walls in Hoshido. "They're here," I stated. Xander's voice in my mind urged me to go for my weapon—a sword, a knife, anything—but for once, I was empty-handed. My brother's voice became drowned out by that of Ryoma, telling me that Hoshido was my home, that I belonged here.

Grimly, I allowed Rinkah to take my arm gently and help me stand up. All at once I felt like an old man; my joints creaked and cracked like an old ship rocked against rough waves, my muscles burning as I supported my weight for the first time in days. She held onto me as I took my first steps, letting my bare feet get a feel for the ground beneath me. She—or others from her village—had given me a set of plain clothes to wear and had dressed me whilst I slept, but she returned my old clothes and armour to me now, and helped me put them on. I moved slowly, and she kept her calm as she helped me through everything.

 _She has the patience of a god,_ I mused as we finally moved toward the door, after an impatient knock. She guided me there and slid a panel aside—so this was where the door was. I couldn't help but admire this—these Hoshidans were probably better at hidden doors than the Nohrians.

When we were outside, I found out that the escort sent to collect me was none other than Kaze, the ninja who had been a prisoner along with Rinkah, but had been freed by the combined efforts of Leo and Xander. My boots crunched in the snow as I took my first steps outside; Kaze bowed to me, and said that he was glad to find me safe. When I asked why, he simply replied that all would be revealed soon; I knew I would not be getting anything out of him, so I asked no further questions—aside from, "Are we walking to wherever it is we're going?"

Kaze chuckled, and said no; he had brought horses for us. They were small palfreys, healthy-looking and bearing well-made saddles. Judging from the breed of the horse, I assumed we would be riding for quite some time.

I was right. We rode for about a week, stopping only briefly to sleep.

Hoshido was a beautiful country, with azure skies rolling for as far as the eye could see, with only a few puffy sheep clouds grazing in the sky-field; the sun shone like a golden halo, and at night the moon beamed brightly from amongst the silent stars, winking like tiny eyes so far away. Hills and plains covered in brilliant green grass surrounded us on all sides, with tall, strong trees interspersed amongst rivers and creeks; wild animals wandered freely, and at least once I caught a glimpse of a cherry tree in bloom, its blossoms as pink as my own hair.

Despite all that I had heard of Hoshido and Nohr's differences, I never believed them until now; they were polar opposites. Whereas my homeland was dark, gloomy, cold, poverty-stricken and so utterly consumed with the impending war, Hoshido was bright, warm, and peaceful; even the poorest villagers seemed content with their lives, and more than willing to share what they could with passing travellers. In Nohr, if one expected that from the villagers, someone—whether it be the asker or the villager—would wind up dead.

Our journey took us over miles and miles of field and hill, across rivers and through villages, beneath the long branches of tall forests, twisting and curling to give the impression of being woven together like baskets. Man and beast we met along the way, and none were the same; there were overburdened carts pulled by old oxen, young lovers on their way to their new homes, and even grim-faced men in boiled leather—levies, Rinkah had called them. They had been summoned by their governing nobles, to be prepared for the inevitable conflict between Nohr and Hoshido.

My stomach churned at the thought of this war. All I could think of was the dream, in which Xander and Ryoma were at each other's throats, asking me to choose between them. Thousands, maybe even millions of good people would be marching to their deaths, left to bleed out in a foreign land, never to see their loved ones again before their life fades. Was this really unavoidable?

I spoke no more on that journey, offering only short answers to their questions, until the green pastures and rolling hills stopped and joined a whole new landscape: a mosaic of plains covered in trees and shrubs, flooded to the very banks by rivers that long ago carved their fantastic patterns into the land, all converging to form a wide moat around a massive city, built at the base of an enormous mountain, so tall that it was wreathed in clouds. From somewhere on that mountain, a waterfall flowed down into the city, perhaps into a well or a pool. I was in awe; I had never seen something like this, and I doubted that there was anything like it in Nohr. Of course, even if there was, it would probably be too dark to see it.

I heard Rinkah chuckle; "Incredible, isn't it? You're at the Hoshidan capital—and on that mountain rests Castle Shirasagi," she began to explain.

I assume I was gaping, because when I finally found my voice, it was a quiet, awe-filled tone that I spoke with: "Incredible," I echoed. I held onto the reins of my palfrey with my right hand as I held up my left to cover my eyes, trying to block out the sun so that I may catch a glimpse of the castle—but to no avail. Still, I found myself reaching for it, a familiar feeling of warmth rising in my stomach. Gone was the worries of the war, but now I wondered why this place seemed so familiar, so terrifyingly familiar; I had never even seen Hoshido before, how could I possibly know?

We rode up to a massive wall, baked in the harsh sunlight for thousands of years, and came to a portcullis flanked by men clad in bronze armour. Kaze dismounted and spoke to them, showing them papers of some sort and gesturing to me once or twice, and they nodded and raised the gate. When the ninja returned and mounted once more, our horses carried us gently into the city.

* * *

The city was fantastic; it was built around the very base of the mountain, so that it was not in its shadow, and even on the inclines where the mountain had planted its roots, people had carved out comfortable lives. The poorest of the poor seemed to not want for food, and everyone carried out their daily tasks quite happily. It seemed that today may have been a day of rest, as there appeared to be more people wandering the streets than actually working. When I asked Rinkah and Kaze, they confirmed my suspicions, stating that there was a festival on its way and that it was custom to rest the day before.

It struck me how vastly different Windmire and Shirasagi were; where wide-eyed children with hollow bellies roamed the alleys looking for scraps and stray dogs carried off the dead who had fallen in the streets, children laughed and played and animals happily ran around their owners. Where cold grey skies loomed over the hopeless population of the Nohrian capital, a bright sun smiled down from a warm blue sky to bring comfort and prospect of a new day to even the most downtrodden, promising that there was never a moment where they could not seize the day.

We drew ever closer to the mountain, a carved path becoming clearer the nearer we came. Cut into the grey stone was a perfectly smooth trail, twisting like a snake as it coiled around the rock. The man from my dreams, Ryoma, was at the top. What else awaited me? Was I expected?

My group did not meet a single guard on our ascent, probably too occupied in assembling the troops, or perhaps they were given a day of rest as well.

The wind grew harsher the higher we climbed, starting as a gentle breeze and growing to heavy winds lashing at us, threatening to blow us off the side of the mountain. Out of fear, I clenched the reins of my horse tighter, but Rinkah and Kaze only chuckled as they sat calmly atop their steeds, and though the hair of Rinkah's mask flailed wildly like bloody tentacles, they remained still and easy. Slowly I began to realise that the wind would not be taking us today, and I sat straight up, proud, and allowed my grasp on the reins to loosen. Eventually, a calm smile overtook me.

And then, when we were past the layer of clouds that surrounded the summit like a beard, I saw the magnificent castle which I had only been able to form mental pictures from the books Leo had left me to read. As I write, I still know not how to describe it; to call it 'looming' would give it an ominous feeling; 'hulking' would imply an aspect of brutality; in fact, anything but 'peaceful,' or even 'masterpiece,' would be inaccurate. It climbed high into the sky, reaching toward the sun as a living tree does; the castle was a masterwork of architecture, a patchwork of browns and whites cobbled together to form majestic patterns, and in the sunlight the palace seemed to be made of gold. Roofs curved gently off the walls in tangents, sloping downward then steadily reclining upward into a triangle at the corners. Several other towers were set up behind the castle walls, though none reached so high as the main one, and at the very base of it all was a yawning gateway, shading the doors into the great palace.

Kaze took the lead from there, whilst Rinkah and I followed calmly—well, she was calm; I was caught up in admiring the beauty of the Hoshidan palace, and could not help but compare it to the threatening Castle Krakenburg. This building radiated benevolence, and a true care for their subjects. No one would face injustice under their rule, and the sons of the Dawn Dragon would never bow to the sons of the Dusk Dragon.

As a Nohrian, it should be expected that I felt unwelcome, yes? In fact, it was quite the opposite; even the guards, whenever we passed, never made such a remark. I felt almost at home—though I lacked the key component of home: my family. With that in mind, no matter what I attempted to feel instead, I could only feel hollow.

Though I was fairly treated, I was still a captive.

Kaze led us inside, through a set of massive red doors, ornately carved into squares framed by wedges and enameled with gold, each little square on the door no doubt depicting some scene from Hoshidan mythology, much like the Courtyard of Faces back in Nohr was a garden of Nohrian heroes immortalised in statue-form. Two guards in bronze plate armour wielding naginatas, with katanas belted to their hips, stood facing outward on either side of the door, both inside and outside. They were Samurai, I imagine; there were a few at the Bottomless Canyon, I recalled, though I could not remember if I had engaged any of them.

High ceilings stretched skyward, lined with high, curved windows, light piercing through in in wide, sweeping beams; rich tapestries, colourful and beauteous, lined the walls, not necessarily meaning anything, perhaps simply there for decoration—a wonderful change from the cold austerity of Castle Krakenburg's bare, dark walls. The entry room was grand, with tiled floors of some beautiful coloured stone and beautiful gold-wrought sconces wielding torches topped with yellow-orange flames dancing to an imaginary orchestra. Up here on the mountain, winds rocked against the walls of Castle Shirasagi, and as it strained against the windows, it felt as if the castle itself were alive, drawing deep, rattling breaths as it braced itself against the blustery weather.

Kaze took us through countless hallways, none exactly the same as the others. Some led off to courtyards, some to kitchens, storages, but no matter what their branch-offs led to, they were, for the most part, quite plain, and seemed to pass by quite quickly. I followed along in a daze, trying to soak in everything I could, trying to learn anything—everything—about Hoshido just from how they built their castles, but when we rounded a corner and heard the sound of metal clashing against metal, I was snapped out of my pseudo-trance and turned toward the sound like a flower to the sun.

Then I saw them: three of the largest men I had ever seen, taller than me or Xander or father, and twice as wide, stood in the middle of a courtyard bathed in sunlight, clad in furs and perhaps a very light chestplate, possibly leather, and fighting with axes and swords that glinted with light, as if they were little more than luminescent beams concentrated into a blade. The way they moved was practically an art, dodging and parrying and striking; they seemed to be almost evenly matched. There was one, shorter than the others, with long, straight blond hair fighting with two war-axes, a broad grin on his face as he caught the hilt of one of his companions' swords in the lower curve of his axe, wrenching it from his hands in a show of impressive strength. These men were beasts in the form of humans, as fascinated and dedicated to their weapons as early men no doubt once were to fire.

With a heavy kick, the blond man knocked down his now weaponless foe and quickly pivoted, raising his arms and crossing the war-axes as swiftly and easily as if he were made of water. He held on strongly as the massive blade of a greatsword crashed down in the wedge-formation created by the war-axes blocking. The blond sidestepped and turned the axe heads to where they seemed to latch onto the greatsword, guiding it down and then driving an elbow into the side of his other opponent's head. The still-standing man, now lacking his greatsword, raised his hands to engage in hand-to-hand combat as the blond dropped his war-axes, tackling his opponent in a flurry of intense blows.

Eventually, the greatsword wielding man raised his hand as if to yield, and with a grin the blond man stood up, pulling his companion with him; the first one who went down was up as well, sitting on a stone and gently sharpening his sword. After a moment of animated conversation between them—I was able to catch snippets of the speaking, but they spoke in some unfamiliar foreign language. The blond turned his head in our direction and immediately his intense blue eyes met mine and a chill ran down my spine; I wasn't sure what to make of him. In truth, he scared me.

Then his eyes swept across our group and settled on Kaze, and he cracked a smile, raising his hand in greeting. Kaze did the same, and then urged us onward.

"Who was that?" I asked finally, as we turned down a hallway lined with paintings.

"Nordlanders—Northmen," he explained, "they hail from the Nordlands."

"Nordlanders," I repeated, as if tasting the word. I'd seen it written in books many times and heard father mention a Nordlander named Grimolf before, though I couldn't say I'd ever met one.

"Aye. The blond one is Magnar Odinsson, son of the late High King Odin Frostfang, and rightful heir of the Nordlands," Rinkah contributed. "I can't say I know much else about him, though my cousin was a member of the guard here and had the opportunity to spar with him… he's ruthless in battle, undefeated by any except for his brother."

A brother? Now that I thought about it, I had certainly heard the name Odin Frostfang before. He was the High King of the Nordlanders, responsible for reuniting the fractured continent after his father Borr Orisson was slain by invaders from the west; he replaced several of the old jarls who rebelled upon his coronation—he was younger than I was now if I remembered correctly. But then… he was murdered, and by his own brother no less. His two sons went into exile… and here they were.

Or, at least Magnar was. "His brother? Is he here too?" His name started with a 'B,' that much I could recall.

"Yes. Baldur is his name," Kaze confirmed. "Chances are, you'll meet him later. Come."

* * *

The hallways twisted and turned and climbed up steps, and Rinkah and I followed along dutifully as Kaze led like a walking statue—silent and impassive. He practically seemed to glide along; despite Rinkah and I making loud footsteps that echoed off the high walls and ceilings, not a sound came from him, and I understood why he was a ninja.

Finally, we came to a set of doors almost as grand and massive as the entryway to the castle itself, flanked by three samurai on either side, and immediately there were butterflies in my stomach. Something was going to happen… and I knew I wasn't going to like it.

As we came closer, four of the samurai reached for their katana, but the two closest to the doors held up their hands upon seeing Kaze, and the other samurai relaxed. One of the samurai near the doors, whose face was covered by a metal facemask, said, "Kaze. You've returned." I hadn't realised until I heard the voice, but the speaker was a female; this was somewhat surprising to me, as back in Nohr, usually only healers were female, and very rarely were they trained with weaponry.

"I have," the ninja confirmed. Kaze placed his hand lightly on my shoulder. "We have business with the High Prince. May we pass?"

One of the other samurai, a young-looking man with round grey eyes and spiky brown hair that poked out from under his helmet, spoke up, "Is he the one, then?"

The first speaker shushed him and with the other samurai nearest the door began to open the great doors. "He is," Kaze said simply as we entered the throne room. Rinkah followed shortly after, glancing at the samurai guards and coming over to us with a confused look on her face, though she said nothing.

If I thought the entryway to the castle was magnificent, it may as well have been a simple stone in comparison to the gem that was the throne room. The ceiling vaulted up toward the heavens, seeming to go on forever; I felt that if I yelled upward, the resulting echo would be carried up to the gods. Shimmering rainbow light danced off the walls from prisms deeply set in tall windows, and I could tell we were up high from the fact that I could hear the wind rushing around, making it seem as if the castle were breathing. A short staircase led up to a golden throne surrounded by a golden halo that appeared to be made completely of light, and standing in front of that staircase was the man I had seen in my dreams days—weeks?—before.

High Prince Ryoma of Hoshido stood before the golden throne, his long, reddish-brown hair falling down his back in spiky waves; he wore red plate armour similar to what the samurai outside were wearing, with a white cloak draped around his shoulders. He was turned away from us, conversing with a man who was much taller and larger than him, with shoulder-length blond hair and a long beard clothed in furs. Kaze, Rinkah and I walked to the foot of the steps and knelt, and Ryoma and his companion turned to us.

"Welcome back, Kaze," said the Hoshidan High Prince. His eyes settled on me for a moment and it appeared as if he had to conceal a smile, but I could see it in his expression. "You've done well."

"Thank you, Lord Ryoma," said the ninja, bowing his head proudly.

Ryoma walked down the steps and stood before me; I looked up at him and felt no malice. A smile slowly etched its way across his face, and he opened his mouth to speak, but another voice cut him off.

"…It really is you," a female's voice said, breathlessly, from the other side of the throne room. All five heads turned in that direction; standing in a doorway was a very beautiful woman with long, raven black hair tied with a bronze ornament in the shape of Hoshido's sun sigil; she wore a long white gown with golden shoulders and a golden flower on her chest. She began to hurry over to us, and I could see the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "I can't believe it…"

Out of instinct I stood up, just in time to meet her as she stopped just inches from me. She smiled brightly as she looked up at me; "You've gotten so tall…" she said softly. "Arashi… I never thought I would see you again." I wanted to say something, but my voice wouldn't work. "My beloved son…" she said as she pulled me into a tight hug.

"Your… son?" I managed to croak out. This couldn't be true… surely she had to be mistaken. My mother was back in Nohr, with my full-brother Leo… I looked into her eyes, and realised they were grey, just like mine. Suddenly I found myself thinking that she might be right, though I didn't want to admit it at the time. "I-I'm sorry, I think you must be mistaken…"

She placed pale hands on my cheeks and gently angled my face to look closer at her. "Arashi… I know it is you," she whispered. "A mother never forgets, no matter how many years pass. I've counted the days until I saw you again, and I just know in my heart that it can be no one but you."

As I stared at her for what felt like minutes, there was a rush of… _something_ in my head, a flood of memories, all returning at once. Young Ryoma, calling the name 'Arashi'; a red-haired princess with a fondness toward pegasi; and most of all, the warmth of a mother's smile. I felt myself beginning to slip away, my knees growing weak; tears filled my eyes as I returned her embrace, sobbing out quite loudly, "Mother!"

She breathed a joyous gasp and held me to her, and I felt that same warmth again. "My dear son," she said softly. Tears flowed freely down our faces as mother and son held each other, reunited after almost twenty years.

My strength returned after a moment, and we broke away. I reached up to wipe my eyes, but she pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped my face, like mothers often did. After a moment, I finally was able to say, "How… how did I end up in Nohr?"

My mother looked toward Ryoma for a brief moment, then said, "It's a sad story," she began heavily. "Ryoma… would you ask the others to leave the room?"

Ryoma nodded and turned to Kaze, Rinkah and the blond man and spoke to them softly, and they nodded and left the room. He returned to stand next to us, but not so close as to encroach on the space between my mother and I.

"When you were very young… only two years old at the time, almost three, you were abducted by Nohrian forces. I am truly your mother, Arashi," she said.

I don't know why I so readily believed her; I suppose that I just knew, deep down, that she spoke the truth. But… Arashi? What was this name they kept calling me?

"I don't suppose they retained the name Arashi when you were in Nohr, did they?" Ryoma cut in, clenching his fists.

"No. They called me Arin," I confirmed. "Fa—King Garon said that I was named after Lord Arin of the Highpeaks, the Westguard. Then… my name… my _real_ name… is Arashi?"

Ryoma scowled, and looked as if he were about to curse Nohr. "Those bastards…" I heard him say lowly. His face softened after looking at Mother, then said, "I know this must be quite a shock. But I promise you, this is the truth. I am your elder brother, Ryoma."

There was a part of me that wanted nothing more than to argue with him, deny so vehemently that this could not possibly be true. That's how I wanted it to be. I wanted this to be nothing more than a dream, and that soon I would wake up and be back home in Nohr with Xander, Leo, Elise and Camilla, with Jakob, Felicia and Flora attending me, Gunter still alive…

Unfortunately, the world didn't—and still doesn't, at the time of my recording these events—care what I wanted, or what anyone wanted.

"But… Xander, Leo, Elise and Camilla…" I protested weakly, though it was clear my heart wasn't in it. The look in my mother's eyes made it known that she understood my feelings.

"The Nohrian royals? They're not your real family, Arashi. I still remember the day you were taken from us…" Ryoma trailed off. His face darkened as he recalled the painful memories. "Back then, there was no full-blown war between Nohr and Hoshido. There was tension, of course, but there's always been tension between the countries. The war hadn't yet begun… not until the murder of our father."

"Our father?" I said; the word felt strange on my tongue. All my life when I used that word I meant King Garon, but the idea that he was not my father left a foul taste. I was in denial.

"King Sumeragi," Ryoma confirmed with a nod. "King Garon had asked him to come to Cheve, under the pretense of a peace conference." He scoffed. "Our father, always looking for the good in people, trusted him, and went to Cheve, and brought you with him."

My blood chilled as the ending of this story became clear. One didn't need much intelligence to figure out where this was going. "Then… fa—Garon," I corrected myself quicker this time, "killed him, and took me."

"You remember, then?" asked my brother almost hopefully. The smile was beginning to twist at the corners of his mouth again.

I didn't want to dash his hopes, but I couldn't lie to him. "No. I only have the vaguest memories, most only going back until I was about four," I admitted; he seemed crestfallen, but I continued. "Sometimes, I can sense something… blurry. It's an image, but I'm never able to discern it. I know there's more to it, but it's never clear enough to see."

It wasn't a complete lie; I tried to clarify the image that I would remember, but it was always the same thing: a big, gloved hand reaching for me. For all I knew, that could have simply been Gunter or Xander reaching down to help me up when I had fallen. But now, it seemed like it could be much more sinister…

Ryoma came closer and placed a hand on my shoulder, his gauntleted hands much gentler than I expected. "I can't imagine the Nohrian royals would tell you much of this. I know this must be a lot to take in all at once," he said soothingly.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but the doors swung open swiftly and a samurai came rushing in, breathing heavily. "Lord Ryoma!" said the samurai. "An urgent message, my lord—the Faceless are staging an assault from the north!"

Ryoma's face went white as a sheet as he looked to Mother. "That's where Sakura and Hinoka are," he said urgently. He looked genuinely concerned.

"They've been helping evacuate the villagers," the samurai confirmed.

My brother nodded in understanding. "We'll provide some support then. Come, Arashi. I want you to see the truth," he said and began to walk briskly out of the room without looking back.

Mother gave me a gentle push as I stood there, trying to understand what just happened. "Go with him, Arashi," she urged softly. I nodded and hurried out after him, catching up to him as he walked with the blond man he was speaking with when I came in.

"Baldur, I'd like you to call up some of the men," said Ryoma. "Meet us at the northern gates, and have them prepared to fight some Faceless. Bring Magnar, if you wish."

"Very well," the man said gruffly before breaking off and heading down an adjoining hallway.

Baldur? I remember Rinkah mentioning that name, as well as Magnar. "Baldur?" I asked Ryoma.

"The rightful king of the Nordlands," Ryoma said shortly. "He and his brother are our guests here whilst they try and raise an army to retake their homeland." His tone went softer, almost worried as he added, "At the rate things are going, I fear that we will be seeing two wars at once very, very soon."

"What do you mean, Ryoma?"

He looked straight ahead as we approached a turn in the hallway where a giant tapestry hung on the wall in front of us. "An oracle out in Kamakura claims that the bones bring tidings of war. A sage in Kyoto saw a sun being swallowed by a dragon in the tea leaves. Times are changing, brother," he said quietly. He stopped walking. "One of the northern seers in Baldur's employ… he said that the winter would be harsh; the other Northmen take this as a bad omen. Winter can be a metaphor for anything in their culture." He turned to me. The aura of confidence he had exuded around Baldur and the samurai were gone, and I could hear genuine worry. "The great game has begun, Arashi. I just hope that we can survive it."

* * *

Ryoma's worry for his sisters—my sisters, if all of this was true—was evident in the haste with which we hurried to get ready. One of the younger samurai in Ryoma's retinue brought him his legendary katana, the Raijinto, as well as a coat of chainmail that had been brought to the castle's armoury after an attempted raid from Clans Valt and Hailer on a Hoshidan border station was repelled. Kaze, who, along with Rinkah, would be coming with us, helped me put the chainmail on; it was a bit loose, but at the same time it was a bit short, no doubt meant for someone much squatter than myself. Rinkah also returned Ganglari to me, saying that she had held onto it from when she found me at the edge of the canyon.

Not long after, we hurried down to the stables where we were given horses, strong, sturdy coursers that the stablemaster said were the fastest they currently had on hand. We helped the stableboys saddle them up to help get along faster, and as soon as the horses were saddled, we gave our steeds a gentle kick and took off.

I hadn't been expecting much out of the horses, but they moved _fast_ , almost as fast as Snowcrest. _Snowcrest…_ I thought as I rode directly behind Ryoma, keeping my eyes on him. I began to wonder what happened to Felicia and Snowcrest back at the Bottomless Canyon; did they make it back fine? I hope so… surely some of House Hussar's outriders found them and brought them back; their lord knew my steed very well. He wouldn't let anything happen to them… right?

Despite the sudden onset of worry towards my steed and my friend, I felt much more at ease than before, now that I was both mounted and armoured. I felt like I could handle whatever it was we were going to face.

* * *

We arrived at the northern gates fairly quickly; the coursers were surprisingly stable as they raced down the winding path that led down from the castle, maintaining their footing very well. I figured that these horses had probably been trained to come up and down the mountain quickly and with perfect balance.

Baldur and the men he raised were already waiting outside the gates, a massive iron portcullis being the only thing separating our party from the Northerner's. We slowed our steeds to a halt and Ryoma waved to one of the guards who then pulled on a large lever that took several yanks before it moved, albeit quite squeakily, and the portcullis slowly rose with an audible clanking of chains. We hurried out to meet Baldur's company, the sound of hoofbeats on cobblestone softening as the city streets gave way to a path of grass and dirt.

"Ryoma! What took so long?" Baldur said in a teasing tone as we cantered up to his group. He sat astride a short but sturdy chestnut brown garron that bore two white splotches on its flanks, and slung in a saddlebag across the horse's back was a large battle axe, with twin wicked-looking crescent moon-shaped heads and some weird runes etched into the blades, possibly the written language of the Nordlanders. Beside him on a slightly taller black garron sat the blond with intense blue eyes who was fighting with two war-axes, watching us intently; he nodded in greeting as we arrived, but said nothing; the two he was fighting with were also in the party, also mounted.

"No time for jokes, Baldur," Ryoma said curtly. Baldur rolled his eyes and said something in Nordic that made a few of the others laugh.

Baldur's eyes focused on me. "Little lord Arashi," he said, addressing me for the first time. "You've come out of the frying pan, but already are being thrown back into the fire. Do be careful, I doubt your sisters would like to lose you after so recently finding you." And after saying that, the King in the North turned toward his men, barked out something in Nordic and they galloped off, forming into an arrow formation.

"We'd better be going too," said Ryoma, and we spurred our steeds into motion too, following closely behind the Northerners.

* * *

I was surprised at how fast the fertile green hills and clusters of verdant trees died away the further north we got, giving way to dead trees, frozen streams, and villages and mountains that were covered in snow. The air chilled, and I could see my breath.

"Why would your—our sisters be out here?" I asked as my courser caught up to Ryoma's. He was riding hard, so I rode harder to keep up with him.

"This is where Hinoka first met her pegasus. The two often fly out here," he explained. "Sakura likes to go with her. They must have spotted the Faceless before the alarm reached the castle."

So Hinoka was a pegasus rider too? "Ryoma… is Hinoka's hair red?" I asked, recalling the memories that had hit me back in the castle. I remembered a red-haired girl who loved pegasi, perhaps that was her.

He nodded briefly, but said nothing, leaning closer to his steed as it sped up. I leaned closer as well and dug my heels into the horse's sides. The wind rushed around me, and for a moment, after shaking off the sudden cold, I felt free again, like when I rode around my fortress home on Snowcrest's back. In just a moment, I had already caught up to Ryoma again; I always had been good at riding.

"Ryoma? What are Faceless?" I asked over the rush of wind.

"Mindless beasts created by Nohrian black magic," he called back, not moving his head. The wind rustled his long, spiky hair like the red-brown mane of a massive lion. "They have no directives other than to kill, and they're damn good at it."

"Ry-o-ma~!" Baldur's voice, booming and clear, sang through the wind like a thrown knife; Ryoma slowed his steed to a steady trot, and eventually to a halt; I did the same, and then we both dismounted.

In the shadow of a tall, snow-capped mountain, the Northern King was already waiting for us with his men: twelve giants, taller than any Hoshidan and also taller than most Nohrians, all clad in leather and furs carrying greatswords, warhammers, battle-axes, war-axes, or some combination. They seemed to tower over Ryoma, but only a few were taller than their king.

The top of the sun just barely peaked over the mountaintop. In the distance, a few more mountains stood clustered together like soldiers in a shield wall, ready to guard their lands with their lives, their tips wreathed in clouds. There was something in the air that felt… heavy. Every now and then a breeze picked up and I could smell some kind of stench on it, and with that stench I'd hear a rumbling, like distant thunder or stampeding animals; my sharp, pointed ears would twitch whenever I picked up those sounds.

"You hear it too, don't you?" Ryoma asked me after a moment. "The rumbling, I mean."

"Yes… how did you know?" My brother smiled slightly and lightly poked my ears, almost affectionately. I returned the smile and then asked, "Is that them? The Faceless?"

"Most likely," Ryoma confirmed. "Prepare for a fight, brother. Be on your guard."

* * *

We left our steeds behind and set out on foot from there; according to Ryoma, cavalry was no good against the Faceless, especially not when they were as lightly armoured as most Hoshidan cavalry was. Not only were the Faceless' skin too tough for a lance to penetrate with the speed of a horse behind it, but one swing from these beasts could shatter a horse's bones like glass. A samurai who had been come with us stayed behind to mind the horses.

Baldur and his men moved ahead of us, the thirteen Northmen tensed and ready for battle. They moved through the snow almost as if they were hovering, leaving only the tiniest trace of footprints but no sound. The massive men were like vengeful ghosts, striding through the snow with their weapons brandished, ready for battle.

In contrast, Ryoma, Rinkah, the four samurai and I moved through the snow with all the grace of donkeys, leaving deep footprints with the sound of our boots crunching against the snow, although Kaze, as expected of a ninja, moved silently and light on his feet.

As the mountains sprung up on either side of us, forming narrow flat passes with sloping sides, densely packed with groves of trees, we began to ascend the slopes into the treeline. As we moved, the rough outline of a village built onto the mountainside became clearer to us, with a rough, well-travelled road leading up from somewhere down the mountain; the village had high, wooden walls, but its gates were currently open.

"That village…" Rinkah murmured as we got closer. I looked at her and asked what she meant, and she replied, "Not everyone has been evacuated yet, I bet. We should warn them, soon."

"Certainly. It would be terrible if there were any civilian casualties," agreed Kaze.

"Ryoma." Baldur said, stopping; his men stopped as well. "My Northmen and I will move ahead and around, and hopefully cut off the Faceless' escape route. This is our natural terrain; if anyone can surprise them, it's us."

My brother strode forward and grasped the Northern King's hand, shaking it. "Be careful, my friend. The Nordlands need their rightful king."

Baldur laughed and pulled my brother into a tight hug. "Do not worry, friend. I do have an undefeated reputation to uphold. I have no intentions of losing it." A steady dusting of snow flurries began to descend, like a cluster of distant doves fluttering down to the ground, and the Northmen turned around, white cloaks swirling, and disappeared like ghosts.

Ryoma smiled. "One of these days, he is going to get into a situation where he won't be able to muster up that confidence… but it will not be any time soon," he said with a low chuckle. He then looked to me. "I intend to take the samurai and move on ahead as well. Can I trust you to take care of Kaze and Rinkah?" I told him of course, and he came over and patted my shoulder. "I knew I could. Be careful, brother, and remember that in battle you can lead your army as you see fit, or allow them to engage the enemies at will. Just do not let your guard down, as in battle death can come in an instant."

* * *

Our first order of business was to warn the villagers. I sent Rinkah over toward the village whilst Kaze and I moved forward with one another. "Lord Arin," Kaze spoke up once we passed the village, "though I hope we do not need it, I brought some vulnerary for you." He handed me a small, leather-bound flask with a rag tied in a knot around the middle; I remembered that Gunter had taught me how to use these items, and that they could be used to heal up any scrapes or cuts quickly, though temporarily.

"Thank you, Kaze," I said, offering him a smile. The light coating of snowflakes slowly began to cease, almost as if it had been a covering that had been summoned specifically for the use of concealing the Northmen's movements. As we moved, we were able to gain a better understanding of our surroundings now that the snow had subsided: from our current position at what seemed to be the entrance to a valley, surrounded on both sides by mountains; the valley floor was covered in sparse forests of pine trees, deep green and frosted with wisps of pure white snow, like the little cakes Elise would bring to my fortress from Windmire on occasion.

Hills seemed to form a ring around us, not quite big enough to be called mountains and much more rounded at the top, all frosted with snow just like the landscape around us. A larger central hill rose from the ground a hundred metres ahead of us, covered here and there with thin groves of trees. It had a nearly flat top, almost like a plateau, and I could see on the hillside a skirmish of sorts; there was something massive and grey (from a far-away perspective, I mean; it had to be even bigger up close) rushing against two smaller beings that I could barely make out as having human shapes, likely Northmen, because I doubted Ryoma and his samurai had gotten that far yet.

Rinkah joined up with us quickly, informing us that the villagers had braced their gates and, to express their gratitude, gave her a tiny bust of a local goddess. The three of us now united, we drew our main weapons and broke into a sprint, plunging into the forest ahead.

Kaze moved silently, eyes narrowed and focused on the road ahead, but his ears were perked up as if he were listening for any bit of noise that might reveal an enemy.

Rinkah moved with heavy steps, grinning ferally and breathing heavily with a sense of bloodlust.

As I ran, the ringlets that formed my chainmail coat rattled and jingled like a thousand tiny metal bells; despite my long-sleeved wool undershirt, I could still feel the cold metal of the armour pressing against my skin. I could only imagine how cold I would have been if I hadn't been wearing that shirt.

"Nohrian! On your left!" bellowed Rinkah, brandishing her big brass club and stopping suddenly. Kaze came to a halt as well.

I became painfully aware of a powerful stench that seemed to encircle us, as well as booming, thunderous footsteps off to the left. I stopped and looked, bending down just in time to evade the muscular chain-wrapped arm of a massive grey creature. I rolled forward in the snow and into a bush, snow, leaves and twigs tangling in my rose-coloured hair as low branches dug into my back, a few poking through gaps in my chainmail; some snow that had gathered atop the bush fell onto the side of my face, chilling me, but I brushed it off.

I was on my feet almost instantly, brandishing Ganglari threateningly. A shaft of light broke through the pine canopy and shone on the sword, causing the jagged black blade to gleam like stars in the night sky. It was then I got my first good look at the beast.

It was massive and grey, as I previously recorded, at least nine feet tall and likely weighing somewhere close to half a ton. Its muscular body was covered with scars and snow, with chains wrapped around its wrists and crossing its chest as if it had once been bound. A big metal mask covered its head with several big holes drilled into it, all as black as the Bottomless Canyon; this must have been why they were called the Faceless, as there were no distinguishable features inside the mask despite it being day. It drew deep, rattling breaths that shook its whole body as it stood there, staring directly at me.

"Monster!" I bellowed, just like Xander had taught me, "I am Arin of… I am Arin! Today I send you to your death!" I had to cut off my 'of Nohr,' as I no longer truly knew where I came from.

The monster grunted at me, as if responding to my challenge in the way any Nohrian chivalry might, except without the ability to form words. It pounded its fists against the ground twice and threw them into the air angrily, likely about to charge. I wrapped both hands around Ganglari's hilt; the blade was now a thick black line, pointed at the ground as the tip edged upward, ready to stab.

"Lord Arin, watch out!" Kaze's voice called from somewhere behind me. I heard a shuriken whistle by my head. Out of the corner of my eye I saw its target, another Faceless, perhaps ten feet away from me; Rinkah soon appeared from the foliage and dispatched it with a heavy downward smash from her club, breaking the mask open and sending the creature to the ground with a thud.

Once again I just barely ducked under the arm of the Faceless, having been distracted by the other monster, but this time as the creature swung at me I lunged and thrusted my sword into the Faceless's exposed stomach, cutting across and eliciting a spray of foul-smelling black liquid, possibly the equivalent of blood to these monsters. The Ganglari's sharp edge tore though the creature's rough skin all the way to the middle of its side before I finally pulled it out, likely causing severe damage to any organs around that area—if it even had organs, of course.

Once I withdrew my sword and sprinted a couple feet away, the creature fell forward and moved no more. It no longer drew the rattling breaths, no longer grunted with thirst for blood. Soon, it collapsed into ash, as if it had been a simple construct made of the substance, and stained the snow around it a deep ashen grey.

I had just killed a monster. It was different than killing a human, much different. I had no strong feelings one way or the other, except for relief at not being dead, regarding this kill; this monster had no soul, no mind of its own. It was just a shell, lacking even the red blood humans had; I recalled when I first killed that Hoshidan at the Bottomless Canyon, his blood spraying onto my arm, and how sick it made me then. There was a massive difference here.

"That was… impressive," Rinkah said with admiration as she and Kaze rejoined me. "I thought you were a goner for sure."

"I'm quite glad to have proved you wrong," I said, cracking a grin as we began our trek toward the central hill.

Looking up the hillside, I saw that the Faceless and the two men who were fighting it were gone, though there was ash scattered in the snow. I looked toward the east and saw Ryoma and his samurai battling against three Faceless and were winning quite handily; Ryoma raised his sword to the skies and a bolt of lightning forked down, striking the blade. He brought it down and pointed it in the direction of a Faceless and, even from this far away I could hear the crackle of lightning as it struck the monster, disintegrating it almost at once. Another samurai leapt through the air and sliced at one of the creatures, and a big fountain of the black blood sprayed into the air, whilst two more samurai moved in to finish them off.

I didn't look to see what happened to the final one, turning my eyes forward as we moved up the hill. Finally, we reached the top of the hill, where a brutal battle between the Northmen and several Faceless raged. Already much of the hilltop was covered in ash… and a little bit of blood, and, I couldn't be sure, but I thought I saw a human arm sticking out of the snow.

I saw first-hand the skills that made Baldur so confident in his skills as he contended with two Faceless at once. His big battle-axe moved as fast as lightning, and he spun and slashed in a furious whirlwind of death; in one slice, he cut through one of the monsters' heads and soon side-stepped and took the leg of the other, bringing it to its knees before he took its head too. He grinned as the black blood splattered across his face, and he belted out a huge, booming laugh, then set his eyes on me.

"Little lord Arashi!" he called from across the battlefield. Another Faceless fell in front of him, one of his men leaping onto it and driving a one-handed war-axe through its mask, splitting it open. "You should go find your sisters. They may need help. We will join you soon!"

I nodded at him and then looked over to my companions. "You heard him," I said simply, and we tore off down the hillside.

The hillside was mostly sparse of trees, though the valley in the forest was much thicker than it was on the side we came from; there was another hill diagonal from our position, and there were about five Faceless charging up it at once; I could tell that it was steep, as they were seeming to have quite a bit of trouble moving. There was one already at the top of the hill engaging in combat with a mounted pegasus knight, but it soon collapsed into ash like the others.

We plunged into the forest, dodging trees and bushes as we rushed to reach the princesses. I felt winded, unable to recall the last time I had ran so much—since I rode a pegasus as well, I very rarely did much long-distance running—but I knew that I couldn't stop running. Even though I did not know these girls that we were so desperately hurrying to save, it was a combination of my own good nature and the possibility that these girls may truly be my blood sisters that gave me the energy to keep going.

I had already failed to save Gunter; I was not going to let anyone else die because I couldn't protect them in time.

We reached the hill in what felt like seconds, but as I dug my feet into the snow I found that the snow was much deeper than everywhere else, almost halfway to my knees. Kaze was able to move lightly still, gliding across the snow just as the Northmen could, but Rinkah was feeling the effects of the deep snow as well. She and I trudged upwards as fast as we could whilst Kaze disappeared from sight for a brief moment, reappearing near the Faceless as he began to harass them with his shuriken. It did not seem to do much to them, but they were certainly not liking it.

It didn't take long for us to catch up, but the Faceless seemed to ignore us, instead focusing on making it to the top of the hill.

They didn't make it.

The Ganglari cut a black-bloody path, severing an arm, then cutting open a stomach. Hinoka's club smashed one of the monsters' masks right open, and it dissolved almost immediately. Several well-placed throwing needles from Kaze completely locked down movement for one of the beasts, and after dancing a deadly dance with another, Kaze tricked that Faceless into swinging a heavy fist into the immobile one's mask, breaking it. I then swept in and struck down the Faceless who had killed the other, and Rinkah took care of the fifth and final one.

We reached the top of the hill, and I caught my first sight of the Hoshidan princesses.

One sat atop a beautiful white pegasus with a brown streak across its snout, looking quite similar to Snowcrest though probably about a head and a half smaller. The rider was even more beautiful than the pegasus, with short, vibrant red hair that sat in scarlet waves whilst twin jagged bangs hung down in front of her ears. She had pale skin and wore a short dress—or at least I assumed it was a dress, I could not think of what else it could be—that was pure white on the front and embroidered with the golden sun symbol of Hoshido and on the sides, it was the same red as her hair; the dress reached down to her thighs, and a pair of suspenders stretched down further and latched onto white stockings that were tucked into her red boots. A snowy white cape billowed out from behind her in the breeze as she held a long naginata with an iron tip, scanning for any more Faceless.

The other princess was younger, probably Elise's age. Her hair was short and a reddish-pink in colour, only a shade or two redder than my own, and hung down past her neck. She wore the robes of a shrine maiden, with a white top and cape and a red skirt held together by a light lavender sash; like her sister, she also wore a pair of white stockings. She held a short wand in her right hand, probably a kind of healing staff they used in Hoshido. She stood behind the pegasus rider, holding her wand close to her with a fearful expression on her face.

I rushed over to them immediately. "Hey! Are you two alright?" I called out as I got nearer. I was taking deep, heavy breaths right now, the effects of running so much finally taking its toll on me.

After giving me a moment to gather my breath, the pegasus rider spoke: "Yeah, we've got things under control," she said dismissively. She looked back to the hillside, then back at me. "Who are you, anyway? I thought I knew most of my brother's troops… do you know him?" she asked the girl behind her, who shook her head timidly. "Anyway, I appreciate the help but we've got this. It'll take more than a few of these dumb, eight hundred pound beasts to take me out."

I let out a light chuckle and replied, "Glad you're feeling confident. We'll stay around here, so we'll have your back." I turned to go back and patrol the hillside.

"Uh, hey! Wait a sec!" she called suddenly. I turned back and saw her dismount her horse; she moved through the snow gracefully, but all I could think of was how cold she had to be. "I, uh… I didn't mean to be dismissive, sorry if it sounded that way. Truthfully, thank you for coming all the way out here to help us. Take this," she said, reaching into a bag and producing a bottle. She handed it to me. "You can use it to heal you up real quick. Now, don't worry about me. I'm at my best in these situations."

I cracked a grin. "Thank you. I'll use it wisely," I said. "Be careful."

She grinned back at me, then tilted her head to the side slightly. "You never did tell me your name," she said, almost coyly.

"Right. I'm Arin. Nice to meet you," I said. A look of dawning realisation came over her face, but I quickly went over to the younger girl.

"Ari…?" I thought I heard the pegasus rider say.

"Hey, are you alright? Are you hurt?" I asked the younger girl. She couldn't have been much taller than five feet, and I practically towered over her.

"Y-yes, we're fine," she said timidly. "Th-thank you s-so much."

I smiled kindly at her. "Good, I think things are about finished here. I doubt there are many more Faceless to deal with. Keep safe," I told her before hurrying off to go hunt the remaining Faceless.

* * *

The last Faceless was destroyed no less than five minutes later, and Ryoma, Baldur and their men joined us soon after. As it turned out, it had been a human arm I saw in the snow earlier, and the Northman whom it was attached to, a massive beast of a man, even bigger than his king, named Hroki, was healed by the younger princess, whom I learned was named Sakura, just before he passed out from blood loss. There were no other Northmen casualties, but two samurai had been killed by the Faceless.

After everyone had been healed, Sakura and the pegasus rider, whom I remembered was named Hinoka, came over to Ryoma and I.

Sakura was the first to speak. "U-um… thank you so much for coming to our aid. If you hadn't come, who knows how much trouble those monsters might have caused? But… who are you?"

I realised then that I had only introduced myself to Hinoka, not to Sakura. "Oh, I'm sorry. My name is—"

Hinoka cut me off, stepping forward. There were tears shining in her eyes. "His name is Arashi," she said. She kept walking until she was directly in front of me, looking into my eyes. She was only a few inches shorter than me, maybe about 5' 6" or so, but she held herself in a way that made her seem taller. She reached up and gently touched my hair. "The hair… I knew it…"

"Hinoka, are you alright…?" Sakura asked softly.

The pegasus rider was silent for a moment, and then threw her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly and sobbing into my chest. "Ari!" she cried loudly. Instinctively, I put my arms around her and returned the hug. "F-finally, after all these years…" she mumbled into my chest. "I-I've missed you so much, Ari…"

She kept crying for maybe two or three minutes, before pulling herself away from me, wiping her eyes on her gauntlets, and giving me a watery smile. "S-sorry…" she said finally.

"Cry all you need," I said softly. I could only imagine the emotions that were going through her right now; if she needed to cry for the rest of eternity, I would happily stay there and hold her.

"Hinoka was so attached to you when you were little, Arashi," Ryoma explained with a smile on his face. "When you were taken from us, she cried for months; but one day, she stopped crying and picked up the naginata… and let me tell you, if you find yourself on the pointy end of her naginata, you'll be facing major regrets about your life decisions. She vowed to bring you back one day."

"And now you're here," Hinoka said breathlessly. "I'm sorry, Ari. I'm not usually this emotional. I'm just so happy to have you back…" she thrust her naginata into the sky. "Take that, Nohrian scumbags! He's back with us—we win, you lose!"

"Wait, is he really Arashi…?" Sakura asked, stepping closer.

Ryoma chuckled a little and put a hand on Sakura's shoulder. "Yes. I'll fill you in on everything later, but for now, let's get back to Shirasagi, before Nohr deploys more Faceless." He turned to the samurai and the Northmen. "Everyone! Let's head home!"

* * *

Once we were all mounted and riding steadily on the road back to Shirasagi, I finally asked Ryoma, "What are the Faceless, exactly?"

"Creatures conjured up by Nohrian mages," he explained, mounted on his courser. "They have no will of their own, and right now they are the only things Nohr can send against us."

"I prefer to call them 'dead meat,'" Hinoka said with a low laugh, riding up alongside us on her pegasus. Sakura rode behind her, holding onto our sister. "Mother put up a magical barrier around the kingdom, and whenever enemy soldiers come across the border, they find themselves without the will to fight. As long as Mother is able to keep the barrier up, Nohr can't invade."

"That's why Nohr sends the Faceless. Since they have no souls or minds of their own, they are completely unaffected by the barrier," Ryoma finished.

I listened to them, and I wanted to protest, I wanted to say that the Nohrians couldn't possibly do that. They wouldn't do that. They weren't evil! Finally, I protested, albeit weakly, "But… they… they wouldn't do that. They wouldn't terrorise innocent people…"

"Of course they would!" Hinoka disagreed hotly. Her eyes focused on the road ahead angrily. "They're pure evil! Sometimes the Faceless will even turn on the mages who summoned them, but does Nohr care? No! They'll sacrifice their own without a second thought, just to hurt others!" The thought of those monsters turning their sights on Iago just after he summoned them came into my mind; it took all my strength not to smile. "I'll never forgive them for that—or for stealing you from us! They'll pay for all the suffering they've caused!"

I stayed silent for the rest of the ride back. Magnar, mounted on his tall black garron, sidled up beside me and gently patted me on the back. When I looked over, there was no emotion on his face, but in his eyes I saw that he understood my thoughts. He nodded to me, briefly, and I nodded back.

* * *

We returned to Castle Shirasagi shortly before sunset. My mother hugged Hinoka and Sakura tightly, expressing how glad she was that they were safe, and then immediately took me by the arm, guiding me through the castle halls. Finally, we came to a panel door, like the one at the house in the Fire Tribe village where I stayed with Rinkah, and she slid it open.

The room was obviously meant for a young child, and though everything was kept clean, it seemed frozen in time, as if nothing had been touched or played with in years. Toys and books were strewn about in cluttered heaps, and papers and pencils were thrown around as if they had been tossed about by a whirlwind.

Something about this room felt… oddly familiar.

"Arash—Arin…" she corrected herself, a little sadly. She turned to me and smiled again. "Welcome home. This is your old room."

"My old room…?" I said softly, going inside. I looked back at her and said, "Um… if you wish, you can call me Arashi," and she smiled brightly. I noticed something sticking out from a pile of scrolls: a singular piece of paper. I knelt down and picked it up, looking at it.

It was a drawing of three people, and a rather fine drawing at that, for a child's drawing, of course. A man and a woman stood on either side of a child, all three smiling; the man had reddish-brown hair and a mustache; the woman had black hair and a star in her hair; and the child had pink hair, just like mine.

"Is that…" I began; my mother came and looked over my shoulder.

"Oh! That's a picture you drew when you were little," she said with a wistful sigh. "This is your father, and me, and you!" she pointed them out. "You were such a good little artist… can you still draw now?"

"I suppose we'll find out, won't we?" I offered. I was a bit out of practice, though back at the fortress I often drew when I wasn't training or tending to Snowcrest. "Nothing has been changed, has it?" I asked after a moment, looking at the dishevelled state of the room that could only be achieved by a child's untidiness.

"We couldn't bear to move anything after you were taken," she confirmed, "if we put your things away… it would have been like giving up." She smiled up at me, gently caressing my face. She had to be almost a foot shorter than me, I realised. "You've grown so much… I can't believe how handsome you've become, Arashi…"

I chose my next words carefully, and finally spoke: "…I think that I've been regaining memories," I said. Her eyes lit up and she smiled excitedly. "It's nothing major, just bits of voices and fuzzy images from a young age, but… somehow, I know… I know you are my mother. I don't know how, but I know it."

My mother hugged me tightly. "I'm glad…" she said softly. "I'm sure this must be quite a lot to take in all at once. Please, feel free to relax. Explore the castle, or walk the grounds. You will be safe here."

"Thank you… mother…" I said, returning her hug.

* * *

The orange glow of the setting sun saw me finding my way to the lake which fed into the waterfall that emptied into the pool far below the castle. A gentle breeze rustled my rose hair, and the tall grass around the lake rose and bowed like lesser beings worshipping the sun as it finished its daily journey through the sky, wishing it good rest for its next climb. The lake rippled calmly, and I found myself staring at my own reflection, wondering about how much things had changed since Nohr.

My pink hair had grown even longer; it had always grown fast in the sunlight. Instead of my usual doublets and trousers, I wore a red and silver short-sleeve tunic and black knee-length pants to combat the warmth of this part of Hoshido; my body still was accustomed to the cold of Nohr.

I couldn't stop thinking about those resurfacing memories, or how things would change with my Nohrian siblings. But… I suppose they weren't my siblings anymore. I couldn't stop thinking about Elise, or Xander, or Camilla, or Leo. I couldn't get Felicia out of my mind either. I had formed such an attachment with all these people, but… did they know?

 _You are the ocean's grey waves,_

 _Destined to seek life beyond the shore,_

 _Just out of reach…_

The sound of a beautiful voice reached my ears, seemingly sweeping across the lake like the wind. I looked around for the source of the voice, and finally I saw her.

Walking across a low wooden dock, her bright figure standing out against the dark greens and browns of the woods behind her, was the singer. She was absolutely stunning, with long, sky blue hair; she wore a long, flowing white dress with blue fabric sewn across here and there and kept together by a light blue bow. She walked barefoot, and with a sort of grace that I had never seen before.

I found myself walking towards her, as if in a trance.

 _Yet the waters ever change, flowing like time,_

 _The path is yours to climb…_

Somehow, I was behind her, standing just at the edge of the dock, doing nothing but watching her. She extended her arms into the sky, as if singing to the sun. My right foot moved on its own, stepping forward and causing a board on the dock to creak. She stopped singing and turned to me, a bit surprised at my sudden appearance. Then I noticed her eyes: emerald green, and absolutely entrancing.

"Yes?" she asked in a silk-soft voice.

"Ah—I'm sorry… I didn't mean to disturb you, but your voice, your song…" I stammered out. "It was just… entrancing."

She looked me up and down, as if sizing me up, and said, "You must be Prince Arashi."

I nodded; "Yes, but please, call me Arin. I'm afraid I'm not accustomed to the name Arashi yet," I said. "And you are?"

"I am Azura, a former princess of Nohr," she introduced.

Former…? "What do you mean, former? If that were true, surely I would have heard of you…" I said. I could recall nothing about any other princesses; she couldn't be much older than me, I would have had to have heard of her. "I grew up with the Nohrian royal family."

"I'm afraid I've been here quite a long time. Once you were taken by the Nohrians, Hoshido attempted to retaliate. They tried to get you back, time and time again, but failed each time," she explained. Her voice was unreadable. "However… I wasn't as heavily guarded. Hoshidan ninja easily captured me. I suppose the both of us have been hostages most of our lives."

"…I'm so sorry," I said after a moment. Hoshido had kidnapped her? I supposed that would have explained why I did not know her, though surely Xander or Camilla might have mentioned her…

"It's alright," she said, her emotionless expression turning into a smile. "I may be a hostage, but I have a happy life here. The Hoshidans have accepted me, and Queen Mikoto treats me as one of her own." She studied my face for a moment, then asked, "Did something happen between you and the queen? …You look perplexed," she added.

I sighed, and shook my head. "No, nothing happened. It's just… hard to believe, you know? I've lived my whole life in Nohr, thinking that the royal family were my blood relatives, and then I'm brought here, and… I don't know how, but I just know that Queen Mikoto is my mother," I said. "With my whole heart, I know it to be true. And my siblings… my _real_ siblings…"

"I understand," she said gently, laying a pale hand on my arm. "If I were to return to Nohr, doubtless I would feel the same way. I don't think I could start anew at this point."

"If you could, would you? Would you return to Nohr to be with your real family?"

"No, I wouldn't. I would rather stay here in Hoshido. Queen Mikoto is a peace-loving ruler—Garon is not," she replied.

I stood there in thought for a moment, looking past her and out into the lake.

"So, Arin… what are you going to do?"

I laughed, almost bitterly. "I don't know. I suppose I'll just have to stay and think about it."

* * *

 **AAAANNNND VOILA~! It is finished! Almost a whole year late, but it is finished! This isn't exactly the same chapter I was working on when I posted that author's note back in August; my old computer actually crashed and wiped out most of my documents and other important stuff. Essentially, I rewrote that previous chapter, and honestly, I think this is a lot better than it was—and a lot longer, too. We're standing at over thirteen thousand words here, folks.**

 **So, I suppose this is where I should go into my apologies, since I don't have any more excuses to give besides my own laziness and frustration at losing almost all my old documents. I'm really, really sorry dudes, so sorry that words can't express it. I honestly didn't want to keep you all waiting this long, and I won't blame you if you guys won't come back; I don't deserve it. I owe you guys who have stuck with it this long, and I promise I won't leave you hanging for a year again. As they say in Game of Thrones, I swear on the old gods and the new.**

 **Anyway, that sappy stuff outta the way, it feels good to be back folks! I've got a lot planned out for how this story is going to pan out, and I've decided that since I've kept you guys waiting long enough, I'll go ahead and reveal Arin's path. Our dear friend Arin is going to be siding with Hoshido, as I'm sure you could probably figure out from this chapter, and right now the two girls that I'm wrestling with pairing him with are Hinoka and Felicia. I played through Revelations recently (that actually got me back on this kick) and married Felicia, and I find the interactions between master and maid extremely sweet, and whilst both pairings would make for a good upset in the storyline I have planned out, I'm not sure which one I want to choose. So, who would you guys like to see Arin end up with? I know I've been asking that a lot, but hey, it's worth a try.**

 **Lastly, I think I'm going to start asking you guys questions every chapter, just so we can all get to know each other a little more. This chapter's question: what was the first Nintendo game you played, or, which did you start with, Conquest, Birthright or Revelation (if it was out, I can't remember if Revelation was out right away or not)? For the first one, it was probably Pokémon Stadium or Smash Melee with my older brother and sister, or possibly trying to bullshit my way through Ocarina of Time's Master Quest with my twin sister; and for the second question, I started out with Conquest actually. My reasoning? Well…** **I have a weakness for a nice pair of anime tiddies** **uh because I like a challenge… yeah, that's totally it… *hides my Camilla body pillow***

 **Anyways guys, this is where I'm signing off for the day. I'm not going to promise a deadline on this, because at my current job we've had a lot of people quit recently and we're pretty understaffed, so my hours are pretty unreliable at the current time. I don't plan on making you guys wait a year for the next chapter though, in fact I'll do everything in my power to stop it.**

 **As always, thank you so much for your time, and so…**

 **Take care, brrrrrush yo hair, I'll see ya when I see ya… PEACE!**

 **~Chase**

 **P.S. this chapter title, as well as Arin's true name, and the story title all kind of sync up. In Japanese, Arashi means storm; Fury of the Storm, a badass song by DragonForce, which also happens to be the story title, includes the phrase 'Kingdom of the Everlasting Sun,' which is the title of the chapter. Just thought I'd share my thought process for my boy Arin :3**

 **(also 14k words, 33 pages hell yeh)**


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